


Anything for love

by hifftn



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Some Fluff, but they will have to fight for it, some angst later, some smut too, they deserve all the happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 31,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26163559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hifftn/pseuds/hifftn
Summary: After dating for a while already Poppy and Tora have to face the facts: He is part of the mafia and there is no real future for them like this. But Poppy isn't ready to let him go without a fight, so she needs a plan to make their relationship work.
Relationships: Tora/Poppy Wilkes
Comments: 185
Kudos: 216





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'm just setting the mood here. It won't stay this fluffy and sweet, but they deserve this before shit hits the fan 😅

The storm raged outside, wind howling and rain pattering against the windows, but Poppy was warm and comfortable in Tora’s arms as they watched a movie, another one of those hilariously bad ones with car chases and predictable dialogues. The protagonist was unrealistically good looking, with pretty clean hands for a mechanic, and the female love interest was too busy looking stunned - and stunning - to actually add to the plot. The antagonist had no background story, or at least none they explained in the movie, but he had access to incredible technology that wouldn’t help him winning in the end because the hero had skill and a great comeback line for anything.  
But Tora enjoyed himself so Poppy wouldn’t complain. In the last few months he had shown cracks in his armor when he was alone with her and Poppy thrived on the trust he showed her.   
It had been easy to fall for him.   
She watched his face as he watched the movie, the tiny smirk whenever the hero did something right, the way he scrunched up his nose when things went wrong or were depicted wrong. He absentmindedly ran his fingertips up and down her arm, eyes glued to the screen until Poppy leaned up and pressed her lips against his jaw.   
“What’s that for, sweetheart?”  
“Just because.” She smiled at him sweetly, biting her bottom lip lightly.   
“Oh yeah?” The movie forgotten Tora pulled her into his lap, arms tight around her.   
“Oh, stop it!” she squealed as he rained kissed down all over her face and neck. “I wasn’t trying to start anything!”   
“Maybe, but I’m gonna start somethin’,” he growled, hands slipping under her shirt, warm palms on even warmer skin.   
“Again?!” Not that she actually complained, but even after spending most nights together his hunger for her hadn’t lessened at all.   
He simply hummed, his mouth busy trailing down to her cleavage while he pushed her shirt up, revealing more skin to his gaze and lips.   
The shirt ended on the floor, instantly forgotten by both of them as Tora cupped her breasts through the bra.   
“Fuck, getting your tits out is always like getting a gift,” he rasped, thumbs brushing over her pebbled nipples. Poppy groaned, more out of annoyance than arousal.   
“You know I don’t like that word,” she muttered as he popped open the clasp of her bra.  
“But you know how much I love your tits,” he grinned and leaned in to catch a nipple between his lips.   
Poppy’s protest at his choice of words died on her lips as pleasure coursed through her body. He just knew every single of her weak spots, it was unfair.   
Speaking of unfair… Poppy reached for the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up until he had to let go of her nipple so she could fully get it off him.   
God, he looked incredible. She would never get over how perfectly chiseled his body was. Sure, he worked hard for it, spent hours at the gym and ate according to a special diet, mostly consisting of proteins and lots of veggies. But fudge, others did, too, and still they didn’t look like Tora!   
As she ran her hands over his torso she sent a quick prayer of thanks to whatever deity let this man step into her life.   
Not that she had much time to do this, he grabbed her tightly and flipped her over onto her back. One of the few perks of a small apartment was the lack of an actual couch; they watched movies on her bed so there was lots of space for them to get distracted - which they quite often did.   
Poppy pulled him in for a proper kiss, sighing when his tongue found hers and happily wiggling when his hand traveled over her skin to the waistband of her shorts.   
“Someone’s excited,” he rumbled when his fingertips found her wet already.   
“Someone better do something about it,” she breathed, gasping when he found her most sensitive spot and circled it expertly.   
“Fuck, sweetheart, love to hear ya.” His erection was straining against his pants, but he was content with listening to her moans and the small cries, watching her writhe under him and arch her back.   
He often did this, bringing her to a first climax before he even got fully undressed.   
Once she was catching her breath, her shorts tugged down but not off yet, her heart still racing and her mind still reeling from the pleasure he had brought her, he kissed her deeply before sliding her remaining clothes off her and pushing his own pants and boxers briefs down.   
Poppy placed a hand on his firm chest and pushed him down on his back, grabbed a condom from their stash - another perk of small places, everything just was within reach - and rolled it onto his hard cock. She straddled him, leaned in to kiss him and sank down on him.   
Outside the storm was still raging, but in their little bubble of trust, comfort and devotion they were warm and safe.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a cozy night comes a rude awakening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm swamped with work and so many other duties, this will be a very slow series. I have planned the whole span of human emotions in this, so don't expect an easy read.   
> Hope you have fun!

He never really slept.   
Whenever Poppy woke up, he was already awake. She fell asleep in his arms and woke up with him by her side, but he was always awake. He had to nap sometimes, she just never saw it. It was like a wifi signal; she couldn’t actually see it but she knew it was there. Her phone told her so.   
Tora definitely rested, but he never truly slept. Not like she did, with dreams and like a log, no chance of waking her up. Instead he sometimes awoke from nightmares in the middle of the night, startling Poppy when he suddenly sat up, his breathing ragged, but his lips sealed.   
This was another reason why Poppy made sure he could relax as much as possible when he was with her.   
She made him food and played with his hair, rubbed his back and cuddled as much as he wanted. But she had also learned to give him his space, not to ask too many questions, instead let him decide what to tell her and how long he wanted to brood over it first.   
In his defense, he wasn’t even that broody most of the time. When he came from a job he sometimes prefered to stay in his own place, to get cleaned up and calm down. It wasn’t rare for him to sneak into her bed in the middle of the night, though.   
She had gotten used to it, now only scooted aside so he had enough room before snuggling against his chest, falling back asleep.   
No matter how cozy their evenings and nights usually were, they barely ever spent time together during the day, not even on weekends. After breakfast Tora always left, sending texts throughout the day before he came back in the evening. Only a few nights so far he hadn’t sent her anything, and afterwards Poppy had learned from Quincey that Tora had gotten injured at those occasions. They never talked about this either.   
Poppy became better and better at ignoring what she was afraid to ask about, like the scrapes on his knuckles, the occasional bruise, the way he jumped when a certain ringtone sounded from his phone. How they only ever went to the same restaurants. How he managed to avoid meeting her friends. How they never truly went out to do things.   
Movies? They watched whatever they wanted at home on her couch/bed. Dates? Sometimes they took the car somewhere, just driving around and stopping at secluded places.   
In the beginning she was too happy to spend time with him at all to mind. Especially since dates were expensive and she preferred to keep her money together. Sure, Tora often offered to pay for their food or groceries, but she didn’t want him to think she was only with him because of his money.   
But lately she sometimes suggested date spots and he kept putting them off to a future that Poppy feared wouldn’t even come.   
He never made plans after all. All the times she dreamed out loud of vacations, places she wanted to visit, things she wanted to do in her life at least once - he only nodded and changed the topic.   
The one question she feared the most to ask was where he saw himself, where he saw them in five years. She already knew the answer would crush her.   
So she smiled and chatted although his answers were often barely more than grunts, but as long as he smiled back she was content.   
Until the night of the call. 

Poppy had been in bed with her a new manuscript - allowing the story to take her away from the small apartment and the fact that her boyfriend hadn’t sent her a message since he had left her that morning at 10 - when her phone rang, the melody of ‘Paperback Writer’ telling her it was Quincey before she had even glanced at the screen.   
“I’m not finished yet,” she said and set the manuscript down, “but I really like it so far.”   
“Oh honey, that’s nice to hear.” His voice lacked the usual lilt, the bubbly excitement he always had when he talked about his writing. She waited for him to go on.   
“Quincey?”   
“Hmmm?”   
“You called me if I remember that correctly. So is there something you want to tell me?” Sitting up on her bed Poppy forced herself to breathe evenly. In and out, in and out.   
“I was wondering… could you come over? Right now?”   
Poppy glanced at her clock. It was close to midnight and she was in her pajamas.   
“Quincey, if it’s not really urgent I’d rather-”  
“It’s Tora. He got hurt. Badly.”   
Her head spun. This was it, so much sooner than she had expected. This was the end.   
“I’m on my way,” she assured Quincey and jumped out of the bed, ended the call only to dial the number of a taxi company and threw on some clothes.   
The whole time she didn’t dare to think about Quincey’s words and the tremble in his voice at all.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How is Tora?

It was hard enough to find a cab at that time, especially one coming out to Poppy’s neighborhood, so it took her almost 45 minutes to get to Quincey’s apartment. The way up the stairs was much quicker, though. Unable to wait for the elevator she had rushed up eight floors and knocked on Quincey’s door, hopping from foot to foot until the door was finally opened.   
“Where is he?”   
Almost slamming the door into Quincey’s face she squeezed past him, scanning the living room for signs of her boyfriend.   
“In the guest room.” Quincey closed the door and followed her down the hallway. “But he’s asleep right now.”   
In front of the door Poppy paused. She took a deep breath and put a hand on the doorknob.   
“How bad is it?” Examining the wood in front of her she tightened her grip on the knob.   
“Well, about that… I might have overreacted a bit. There was so much blood and it was hard to see and the doctor took so long-”  
“How bad, Quincey?” Her patience ran thin at his long-winded excuses.   
“Two broken ribs, his left shoulder is dislocated, he got stabbed in the leg and has a couple of bruises. Got a hit on the head, too, but the doctor says he hasn’t a concussion at least. The one perk of him having a thick skull.”   
She looked over her shoulder only to see Quincey leaning against the wall behind him, eyes cast to the ceiling.   
“Nothing life-threatening?” Still unable to relax Poppy tried to keep her voice steady; it only cracked at the last word.   
“Not at the moment, no,” Quincey confirmed.  
She exhaled again. The weight in her stomach stayed, but got lighter at least.   
“Okay. Thanks.”  
“Poppy-dear?”  
She hummed as she turned the doorknob.   
“He’s not a pleasant sight. Just as a fair warning. But he will pull through.”   
Prepared like that she entered the room. 

Quincy had been right, it really wasn’t a pleasant sight. Tora, big and strong Tora, her tiger, looked so small in the bed, so pale. Except for the blotches of red and blue, some even a dark violet, all over his face and upper body. Poppy fought the rising panic, the tears, the helplessness. The last time she had cried next to a hospital bed was still vivid in her mind, the pain of losing one of the biggest parts of her world, the feeling of her life ending there with his.   
But Tora wasn’t dead. He was wounded, but he would recover. A broken rib was bad, but it wasn’t cancer. He just didn’t look like himself.  
She took a careful step closer, watching his chest rise and fall in his sleep. He didn’t stir so she slid on the chair next to the bed and reminded herself to breathe.   
At some time around 2am Quincey silently entered, threw a glance towards Tora before he motioned for Poppy to follow him out of the room.  
Over a cup of tea they sat in the kitchen, both wrapped up in their own thoughts.   
“The doctor gave him something against the pain. The dose would have sent a horse to sleep, so he shouldn’t wake up before noon.” Quincey opened a cookie jar and offered it to Poppy who took one but set it down next to her cup.   
“I will have to go to work tomorrow,” she whispered and glanced at the clock. “No, today. In six hours.”   
Quincey reached over the counter and put his hand on hers. “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t want to be the reason for you to have a sleepless night. Not like this at least.”   
The sound coming from her was half a chuckle, half a sob.   
“No, it’s - calling me was the right thing. Thanks for letting me know.” She wiped her nose with the back of her free hand and tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling. “I have some things to take care of in the office but I would like to come back here once that is sorted out. If you don’t mind, that is.”  
“Oh, honey, of course not. Should I get you a driver? Someone to take you to work and pick you up once you’re done?”   
She lost her fight against the tears at his words, simply stared at him from huge brown eyes. “Tora’s your driver,” she sobbed and used the sleeve of her oversized sweatshirt to dry her eyes.   
“I have others who can drive,” he shrugged and offered her a tissue. “No one like Tora, of course. But reliable guys I trust to take care of you. Okay?”   
She could refuse, but what would Tora say if he woke and learned she had been difficult. When, not if, she corrected herself inwardly. He would wake up and when he learned she had taken a cab again in the middle of the night, he would be furious. On the other hand, he would also be pissed if she drove with someone else.   
“I need to go back home first,” she sniffled. “I have to change.”  
“And maybe pack a few things you can leave here so you can stay over if it’s necessary.”   
She nodded mechanically, not even noticing Quincey's sympathetic gaze.   
“Come now, you need some hours of sleep, dear.”  
“But Tora lies in your guest room,” she weakly protested.   
“So what? My bed is big enough for both of us.” He grinned and winked at her, making her laugh.  
“You would only use that to tease him about it later, wouldn’t you?” She inhaled deeply, allowing some of the pressure to leave her chest.  
“Well, obviously.” He pulled her up and on her feet again. “No, honey, you can sleep in my bed, I’m not tired anyway. No talking back, I won’t accept ‘no’ for an answer. I wake you up at 7, get you a driver to take you home and to work from there. You just listen to me for once, okay?”   
They had reached his bedroom where he simply led her to the bed and pushed her down gently.   
“Quincey, you are too nice.” Tears filled her eyes again, her bottom lip trembled.   
“You know he would have my head if I wasn’t nice to you,” he softly said and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “Now off to bed and no more crying. You don’t want puffy eyes in the morning.”   
A quick hug later he left her alone and went to take her place next to Tora’s bed for the time being. 

Work was busy and she was grateful for it; any distraction was welcome, even this fudging mistake from the printing company she had to sort out. Erdene and Jacob bickered most of the morning, sneaking worried glances towards Poppy when she didn’t react to any of the jokes and questions thrown her way.   
As soon as she had checked off everything on her to do list for that day she called Quincey about the ride back to his apartment and gathered her things.   
“I have another meeting with Noyouko,” she announced and waved at Erdene once her phone lit up with the notification that her driver was waiting for her.   
She didn’t even hear them calling after her, wishing her good luck with this fickle client of hers. 

“I don’t care how expensive it is,” said client just barked into his phone. “I have a huge blood stain on my carpet and want it gone.”   
The cleaner on the other side kept blabbering on and on as the door was unlocked and Poppy followed Roan, the driver Quincey had sent to pick her up.   
“Fine. I’ll call someone else.” With a huff he ended the call and rubbed the bride of his nose with thumb and forefinger of his right hand. “Poppy-dear, what a sight for sore eyes. Booboo is still asleep and I just thought about ordering lunch. Anything you want?”   
“No, thanks. I’d rather check on him first.” She slipped out of her heels and padded over to the guest room without waiting for Quincey’s answer.   
“Sure, just ignore me,” he grumbled and looked at Roan. “Do you happen to know how to get blood out of a carpet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so you can all relax, he's still alive. I will be crazy busy with work the next 2-3 weeks, so updates will be slow.   
> Have fun!


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's awake!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long day, short chapter.

Tora looked much better already, Poppy decided. Still pale and covered in bruises, but better. Maybe it was the dim light filtering through the curtains, but this time his sight didn’t send a stab through her heart. She sat down and reached for his hand, heavy and motionless on the bed, but it was warm and comforting enough. Lacing her fingers with his she slowly relaxed, breathing deeply and evenly while focusing on every muscle in her body, allowing the tension to seep out of them one after the other.   
She tipped her head back, rested it against the wall and closed her eyes, listening to his breathing.   
Poppy woke up when he squeezed her hand.   
“You’re awake!” She slid from the chair to kneel next to the bed, holding on to his hand.   
“And so are you, sweetheart.” His voice was raspy, throaty from not using it for a while. But he smiled. Weakly.   
"Do you need anything? Are you in pain? What happened?" Poppy assailed him with questions, her free hand carefully cupping his face, checking his forehead, brushing some hair from his eyes.   
"Water," he croaked and Poppy jumped up to rush to the kitchen.   
Quincey sat in the living room, browsing through a magazine. He looked up when Poppy dashed past him once, then again but this time with a bottle in her hand.  
Back in the guest room she put a straw into the bottle and offered it to Tora who took a long sip before shaking his head to indicate he had enough.  
"How are you feeling?" Poppy set the bottle on the nightstand and sat down at the edge of the bed.   
"Like shit." Eyes closed again he sank deeper into the pillows, his hand patting the mattress until he found Poppy.   
"What happened?"   
He groaned. "Job's gone wrong. Happens from time to time."  
It was strange how cold she could feel, how alone, with him right there. A job gone wrong and he brushed it off, as if they were talking about a broken cup, not his life on the line.   
“What kind of job?” Too many secrets, too many limits for her to observe. What had it brought her?   
Tora grunted and tugged at her hand.   
“It wasn’t your bodyguard duties for Quincey,” she concluded, “or he wouldn’t have shut up about it. So it was the other kind of job.” The one they didn’t talk about.   
He tugged again, more insistent this time.   
“Sweetheart, my head is killing me and I’m so fuckin’ tired. Can we skip the serious talk and ya slip under the blanket with me?”   
He looked tired, she had to admit. Didn’t Quincey say Tora had taken a blow to the head, too? Her anger simmered down, replaced by pity.   
“You need your rest and I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to cuddle,” she objected nonetheless. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally hurt you.”  
“But havin’ ya close to me helps me relax.” He opened his eyes, at least half-way, and tugged once more. “C’mon, Bobby, don’t ya want me to get better soon?”   
With a sigh she relented and got on the bed, carefully tucking herself against his good side. Or the least injured side, if the bandages were any indication.   
“There ya go,” he mumbled as soon as she came to rest. “Much better already.”   
Her head rested on his arm, the length of her body was pressed against him.   
“Sorry for givin’ ya such a fright.” A yawn cut off his words, the after-effects of the pain meds made him sluggish.   
“That was - unpleasant,” she agreed. “For a moment I thought I had lost you.”   
He hummed, turning his head just enough to press a clumsy kiss on her hair.   
“Hey, ya wanna help me feel better?” Shifting on the bed a bit Tora wiggled his hips, drawing her attention on the forming bulge under the blanket.   
“What? No way, mister! You are hurt, you need to rest and not do anything strenuous!” Poppy scooted away from him, but she didn’t get very far. His arm held her close.   
“‘twas worth a try,” he chuckled and tipped his head back. “Gotta sleep now. Stay with me?”   
Unable to refuse - and relieved he could joke around again - Poppy settled against his side once more.  
“Tell me if it gets uncomfortable for you, okay?”   
His hum faded as he fell asleep. 

Poppy couldn’t sleep. She was afraid to move too much, to touch a bruise or pull at some stitches without noticing. So she used the time to think, and despite the lack of information she came to a conclusion. Tora’s life was too dangerous. She couldn’t protect him, whatever had happened to him made that much clear. And he wouldn’t allow her to try anyway, not because of machismo but because it would be dangerous for her, too. That left her with two options. Either he got out and they started a new life together somewhere. Or she had to leave, accepting the immediate heartbreak to prevent a bigger loss at a later time.   
Two options, and both of them would probably kill her.


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poppy has some questions for Quincey...

With every passing day of his recovery Tora grew more and more restless. Poppy tried everything, from reasoning to mild threats - “If you don’t stay in bed I will never make you a riceball tiger again.” - to plain bribery - “If you stay in bed I will make you a riceball tiger later.”   
He was an awful patient, grumbling and complaining all the time.   
Poppy rushed back and forth between work and Quincey’s apartment, and more often than not she found Tora wandering around when she returned. Or better, limping around, the wound on his upper thigh needed constant re-dressing with how often he pulled at the stitches by getting up on his own.   
One night, after Tora had fallen asleep for a nap and Poppy had sneaked out of the room, she found Quincey in the living room, browsing through his phone.   
“Hey, Quincey, can we - can I ask you something?”   
“Ah, Poppy, my dear. Well, if it’s about sleeping in my bed, the offer is still standing.” He grinned and set his phone down, patting on the couch next to him.   
She took a seat and chuckled weakly.   
“Not that. I somehow think that wouldn’t help a certain caged tiger with his recovery at all.”   
“Too bad. I was hoping the way he behaves at the moment would drive you right into my waiting arms.” Sighing dramatically Quincey slumped backwards into the cushion, one hand pressed to his forehead.   
Poppy giggled and swatted his arm only to find his biceps almost as firm as Tora’s. Strange, she had never really realized how buff Quincey was. With his way of talking and moving he appeared softer than he was.   
“No, you jokester. But I was wondering…” Fiddling with her hands in her lap Poppy stared at the expensive carpet. They had managed to get the blood out, much to Quincey’s delight. Well, she had. He had only stared at her in awe as she had scrubbed and dried and scrubbed again.   
“Yes, dear?” Quincey sat up again, resting one arm on the backrest right behind Poppy. Despite sitting so close she didn’t feel nervous, not on guard at all. Quincey and Tora were the two people who made her feel safe and at ease, albeit in completely different ways. She could be honest with him, even if Quincey maybe wasn’t.   
“So, how does this whole -” She made a vague gesture with her hand, “- ‘family business’ thing work? I mean, do all these people just come up to you and ask for a spot in the organisation? Do you guys hire at the regular or are there certain points in a year? Do you have internships so people can figure out if the thug life is for them or not?”  
Quincey’s smile fell. He cleared his throat and shifted so he could look at Poppy better.   
“It is - complicated. Some are born into it.”  
“Like you?” she asked and was rewarded with a nod.   
“Like me. Although I am lucky enough to have been born right into the top spot. Others are not that lucky, they do the grunt work, just like their fathers or uncles or older brothers did.”  
“What about Tora? How did he end up there? Was his father-?”   
“You better ask him that, not me. All I can say is that Tora is - special. A very special case.”   
She should have figured that Quincey wouldn’t just spill the beans like that. Poppy took a deep breath.   
“Okay, but the others? Do they want to join? Are they forced?”   
“It depends,” Quincey admitted and glanced towards the kitchen, visibly uncomfortable with the current topic. “Some are just petty crooks somehow ending up in our ranks. Some owe money to us or other wrong people. Some actually enjoy breaking the laws and ignoring rules of society. Those are the ones who climb up the ladder quickly. The rest - the rest are just people like you and me trying to get by. Well, more like you, not so much like me.”   
Poppy nodded. Quincey already had money and power, he had no worries about paying bills and making ends meet. If Poppy was in a real bind, as a small business owner or something, and someone would come and offer her money or help just for looking the other way every once in a while or letting them use her shop after hours for meetings, would she say no?   
She couldn’t tell.  
“I could use a cup of tea. Do you want some, too?” Quincey jumped up and rushed towards the kitchen, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She had a good idea how people ended up in the mafia. But how did they get out?   
She trudged into the kitchen, her brow furrowed as she picked the right words to ask another question.   
“Say, Quincey, if you were to take over your father’s place, do you think you would be like him? I mean, would you lead the - the organisation just like he does?”  
A spoon clattered on the marble countertop; Quincey cursed lowly and picked it up again to scoop some loose tea into a pot.   
“Why do you ask?”   
She shrugged and filled the kettle with fresh water. “I just try to understand how all of that works. I think I need to understand the mechanics of it all to fully understand what kind of person Tora is. Since I will spend my life with him it’s only natural for me to be curious, don’t you think?”   
He squared his shoulders and turned towards her. “Since you will spend your life with him? Not ‘if you would spend’?”   
“Yes,” she confirmed, cheeks heating up with the implications. “I don’t know about him, but I am certain.”   
“Hmmmm… well, I think we should wait until Tora can join us for this conversation. He won’t say much - he never does - but I don’t like talking about this without him. Feels like sneaking around behind his back.”   
A setback for sure, but not the end of this, Poppy decided.   
“Oh, of course. I wouldn’t want to bring you into a position where you felt like going against his will.” With a smile she flipped the switch and started opening some cabinets.   
“Now, Quincey, comes the master question: Where do you hide the cookies?” 

Tora stirred when Poppy slipped into the bed. Despite her worries she had stayed there every night and so far it hadn’t harmed him to share the bed with her. He even claimed it helped him getting better so she had stopped arguing at some point.   
“You and the princess had a nice chat?” he asked and pulled her closer. Poppy froze.  
“Oh sorry, did we wake you up?”  
“Nah, just barely heard ya. Sweetheart, ya gotta tell him to shut the fuck up when he annoys ya. God knows Quince loves hearing his own voice.”   
Tora’s voice was raspy from sleep and the cigarettes he smoked when Poppy didn’t watch him.   
“Oh, okay. Um, we just talked a bit. I feel I can edit his work better if I know him better. Is that strange? Like, if I know how he thinks I know where he wants to go with his stories.”   
Tora’s grunt could mean anything; she took it as affirmation.   
“So, anything I can do for you? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Need some more meds?” Changing the topic was his signature move and Poppy had learned it from the best.   
“Nah, I’m fine. Just - feelin’ gross. Need a shower.”  
“Nuh-uh,” she objected immediately. “The doctor said not to get the bandages wet.”  
“But I’m all sweaty and smelly and sticky,” he grumbled. Poppy buried her nose in the crook of his neck.   
“It’s not that bad,” she declared after sniffing at him for a moment. “But I get what you are complaining about. So, how about we ask the doctor tomorrow if waterproof bandages would work? And for today…”  
He cocked an eyebrow at her as she blushed.   
“Where’s ya dirty lil’ mind going?”   
“I - I could help you wash? Like, wash your hair in the sink and maybe… wipe you off?”   
His grin was the first real smile she saw on him in days and that alone was worth the embarrassment.   
“Now that sounds like a fucking brilliant idea,” he assured her and slid out of bed. “Ya comin’? I’d rather start sooner than later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, my next few weeks will be busy at work, so updates will be slow. I have so many plans for this story, though, and I need to get them out of my head.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tora gets some tender care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, last bit before I run out of material. The next 3 weeks will get tough and I will pick my own sanity over writing. When there's time, though, I will use it wisely. Until then, enjoy some fluffy-smutty goodness.

Quincey’s bathroom was huge. Every time Poppy set a foot in there she expected other people milling around like in a spa. The tub was more like a small pool and the shower big enough for at least four people. She tried not to think about whether or not Quincey had ever actually fit that many people in there. None of her business anyway.   
Poppy had found a small stool and despite Tora’s protests that he wasn’t a fucking invalid and could still stand on both his feet she had brought it and now placed it in front of the double sink vanity.   
“Hair first,” she declared and grabbed a brush, towel and bottles of shampoo and conditioner. It was a bit of a challenge to get him to sit with his back towards the mirror, a rolled up towel as cushion for him to tip his head back and into the sink, but she managed. She got better at ordering him around but it was clear as glass that he was just humoring her. If he would refuse there was nothing she could do about it.   
“Tell me if the temperature is okay.” She scooped some water with a cup and poured it over his hair, working her way upwards until she shielded his eyes with a free hand while wetting the top of his head.  
“Feels nice.” His hand crept up her leg, from her knee upwards to rest on her butt while she was busy getting him prepared.   
“Watch your hands or I might get soap into your eyes,” she warned, voice trembling just the tiniest bit. They hadn’t fooled around ever since he had gotten injured.  
“Hmmm, would be worth it.” Eyes closed he grinned, but let his hand rest there without exploring further. Poppy lathered up some shampoo and rubbed it gently into his hair.   
“Do you ever think about getting it cut?”   
This hairstyle was definitely high maintenance.   
“Nah, it’s not as if I care. I can tie it up and away from the face if it bothers me.”   
“Don’t you worry about split ends?” she asked seriously, rinsing the shampoo from his hair again.   
“‘Bout what?”   
“Nevermind.” Once she was done she massaged some conditioner into the length and ran her fingertips over his scalp.   
He hummed contentedly, moved his head this way and that to make sure she caught every little spot.   
“I like your hair,” Poppy said and twirled a strand around her finger.  
“Figured. After all, some ballsy hamster just touched it without asking for permission when we ran through half of the city back then.” His grin made her knees weak, but his words sent heat into her face.   
“Oh, yeah… I kinda just acted on a whim.”   
“Touchin’ me without my consent,” he pointed out. “Doesn’t sound like a good girl to me.”   
“Oh.” Back then she had been afraid to have crossed a boundary, but she had never apologized for it, had she? “Was it - did it make you feel bad? Because if it did, I’m sorry.”   
“Nah, I’m just messin’ with ya. I liked it. Made me feel as if ya weren’t scared out of ya panties.”   
Poppy chuckled. “If I had been scared out of my panties, I doubt you would have complained.” She had been afraid, it was true, but not really because of him. It was hard to explain, but despite him being a huge, buff thug, she had never been scared of him. Only of what could happen to others, like Mr. Lam. Or Tora himself.   
Again she rinsed his hair, wrapped it into a towel and squeezed the water out as good as she could.   
“Okay, let’s move over to the shower. You can sit on the stool and I can wash you without making a mess of the bathroom floor.” 

It was far from the first time she saw him naked but it got her all flustered nonetheless. How should it not? He was perfect, like chiseled from marble. She placed a towel over his lap, ignoring his chuckle as she soaked a washcloth with water and lathered it up with some soap. She started at his shoulders, ran the cloth down his arms, careful as she passed over his injured shoulder.   
“Okay like this?”   
“Mhmm… perfect, sweetheart.”   
With a smile she moved to his back, once again in awe at how broad and strong he was.   
“This all just a ploy to cop a feel?”   
“Maybe,” she admitted, her grin widening. “It’s not my fault you are so hot.” She rinsed his skin and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. Tattoos, bruises and scars alike she touched while washing him, and one of these days she would spend hours tracing them all with her fingers and lips. But now she had a job to finish.   
“Oh sweetheart, all ya gotta do is ask if ya can touch me, ya know?”   
She moved to his front, heart beating furiously in her chest. When he looked up at her, golden eyes under black lashes, her knees grew weak.   
This was meant as a distraction for him, not for her.   
“What’s wrong? Not gonna continue?”   
His good hand caressed her hip, sliding over the curve of it back to her butt.   
“Stretch out your legs a bit,” she instructed softly and rinsed the washcloth once more. With the same care she had shown his arms and back she now washed his legs, mindful of his bandage. Kneeling between his strong thighs she washed his chest last, hands sliding over firm pecs and defined abs. But also over the spot where his heart beat under his skin. She pressed her palm against it and leaned in for a kiss.   
His hand tangled in her hair, pulled her closer as his tongue nudged hers.   
“We - you still need the rest,” she panted as she pulled back.   
Tora growled. “Fuck resting. I’m sleepin’ right next to ya every night and it’s torture, sweetheart, not bein’ allowed to touch ya.”  
As if to prove his point he guided her hand towards his lap. Poppy bit her bottom lip.  
“It’s not exactly easy for me either, but I don’t want to hurt you even more.” Still she cupped him through the towel, revelling in his groan.   
“Sweetheart, a bit of pain won’t kill me. I had worse.”   
Her bottom lip trembled; she pressed her lips tightly together and swallowed. It was probably true.   
“I don’t want you to be in pain at all,” she insisted.   
“The things achin’ the most right now are my balls, Bobby. They are bluer than those fuckin’ bruises all over me.” His chuckle died in his throat when Poppy slid her whole palm up and down the bulge under the towel.   
“Don’t put any strain on that leg, you understand?” With that she pulled the towel away, allowing his cock to bob up. She washed him first, that was the reason for this after all. But after she had thoroughly cleaned him she took him into her mouth. Her hand wrapped around the part she couldn’t fit into her mouth as she bobbed her head, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock and hollowing her cheeks.   
“Fuck, sweetheart… ya killin’ me here…”   
She froze, threw him a glare before she continued.   
His sheepish ‘Sorry’ ended with a moan when she pushed down further until his cock hit the back of her throat.   
“Poppy, I’m about to-” he managed to warn her just for her to increase her pace as she hummed. He spilled into her mouth with a groan, salty and warm. She moved a few more times, making sure he was completely spent before she pulled back and spit out over the drain, rinsing the evidence of their intermezzo away with the remaining water from her bowl. 

Back in bed she snuggled against him, still afraid to hurt him but needing him close.   
“Tora?”   
“Hmmm?”   
Drawing random patterns on his chest she chose her words carefully.   
“What happened?”   
He inhaled deeply. “Vincent needed an enforcer. Guys brought backup, like an ambush. ‘Twas my fault, should have checked beforehand.”   
“Where was Vincent?” She had never met the head of the Balthuman clan, but had heard a lot of stories already. None of them flattering.   
“Somewhere else.”   
Safe. He probably stayed away from danger; he had men for that. Poppy was seething.   
“Tora?”   
“Hmmm?”   
She took a deep breath, knowing she toeing forbidden territory. “Have you ever thought of getting out?”  
He shifted and sighed. “There ain’t an out. What ya see is what ya get.”   
Poppy doubted that what she saw and what he considered himself matched, though.


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some contemplation from Poppy and Tora, each on their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smuff is over, folks, time for some seriousness...

After a few days Poppy returned to her own apartment. Tora had assured her he was fine, the wound on his thigh had healed up nicely and he could move both his arms again. Even the bruises had faded, merely shadows on his olive skin. There was no need for them to stay at Quincey’s place any longer and so she packed her things and allowed Tora to drive her back.  
Her plants had all survived but demanded her full attention; she watered them, brushed the dust off their leaves and turned a pot or two so the sun would shine on a different part of the plant.  
His long absence from work, as Tora told her, hadn’t gone unnoticed so he had to go back to the headquarters despite it being a weekend. He left her with a kiss and the lingering fear she hadn’t been able to shake off ever since she had seen him in Quincey’s guest bed for the first time.   
Would it be like this forever now? Would she always had to be prepared for the worst? For him not coming back or if, coming back seriously injured?  
This was no life for her. And it definitely was no life for Tora either. Despite his insistence he was just a thug he had often showed his smoldering discontent with his current situation, having to follow Vincent’s orders and putting his own life on the line.  
He never really talked about it, though, only cursed every now and then and brushed her off when she asked about it.  
There was so much left in the dark, unsaid and waiting to ambush her.  
Once her plants were taken care of Poppy made herself a cup of tea and grabbed one of her notebooks to make a list. Organizing her thoughts, writing them down on paper always helped her to come up with new idea.  
She tapped her pen against the paper and pondered. What did she know?  
Tora was in the mafia. His exact job was still a mystery to her, but it was obviously something he didn’t like to talk about, so she figured he wasn’t an accountant or secretary. He didn’t drink or do drugs, so alcohol or drug dealing probably wasn’t his field of expertise. She had even heard him rant about dealers before, that they were scum he’d rather wipe out completely.  
She scribbled ‘mafia’ in the middle of her paper.  
Sex, drugs and violence. She only prayed he wasn’t involved in prostitution, but then again, violence wasn’t exactly the better option. ‘A deadly weapon’, he had called himself back then.  
‘Muscle’, she wrote a bit further down and circled the word in green pen.  
‘Bodyguard’, she added, because it looked so much better.  
Quincey. Or better, Quincey Balthuman, heir to the Balthuman Clan if he wanted or not. She put the name next to the bodyguard note before she wrote ‘Vincent’ next to ‘muscle’.  
In his novels Poppy had found traces of Quincey’s relationship to his father. They were well hidden and she had only spotted them because she knew of his background. Some evil lurking in the dark, threatening to destroy the hero. Some old obligations to overcome before the hero and his love interest could walk towards a bright future.  
He never talked about his father, only about ‘Vincent’ sometimes, and Tora barely brought him up either. And yet it seemed a fact that Quincey would take his father’s place one day; at least Poppy had never heard anything to the contrary.  
Tora had been friends with Quincey since they were kids; sometimes they shared stories with Poppy, each from a very different perspective. They were close, but not without any walls between them.  
Poppy sighed. Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t Tora simply answer her questions so she didn’t have to stay in the dark? She took a sip of her tea and stretched her neck.  
Quincey and Tora were friends, Vincent was the enemy. So whatever Vincent made Tora do, Quincey wouldn’t force this on his friend, right? But how long would Tora be able to go on like this? Could he make it until Quincey was in charge or would he break under the weight of the darkness Vincent placed on him? Would he die before Vincent did? And could Poppy stay with him, watching Tora suffer for god knows how long?  
She closed her notepad and threw it on the table. Too many questions, not enough answers. She could close her eyes to the truth and just twiddle her thumbs or she could take action.  
Tora wouldn’t like this. Well, he would have to get used to it, she decided and went to get a snack.

Back in his own place Tora washed away the stench of some dirty warehouse where he had spent the last few hours executing Vincent’s latest orders. Clean, dressed in a simple shirt and sweatpants he lit another cigarette and stared at his naked wall. He could play some video games and order some food. Neither held any appeal to him so he kept smoking and staring.   
So far he had done everything he could to keep Poppy from seeing him in such a sorry state but Quincey just had to call her and make sure she witnessed Tora at his lowest.   
He inhaled the smoke, held it in his lungs until it burned before he let it escape through his nose.   
Dammit, he could still see Poppy’s worried face whenever he closed his eyes. He had tried to replace that image with the one of her kneeling between his legs, his cock slipping in and out of her sweet lips, and although that did the trick for a few minutes, he couldn't fully erase the picture of her wide eyes, swimming with tears, the way she had bitten down on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling when she had seen him in broad daylight after his unfortunate encounter with the rival gang. And how she had inhaled sharply but kept a straight face for the most time while she had redressed the wound on his thigh, her hands gentle but shaking.   
He had fucking done his best to keep her away from himself, and later at least from the dark and gory parts of his life. And yet here he was, feeling like shit for bringing her into this whole bullshit he was trapped in.   
He grabbed his phone and browsed until he found their last messages. He deleted the ‘miss ya, sweetheart’ without sending it, cursing himself for being so pathetic and lit another cigarette.


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poppy and Tora need to talk and Quincey wants to meddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! Barely, but still! Work is kicking my butt but the end is in sight and I managed to squeeze another chapter out of my poor, tired brain. Hope you enjoy it!

Three days without a message from Tora later Poppy had enough. She had sent him texts saying good morning and good night, even a few random texts whenever she felt like it or saw something he might like.   
She never got a reply.   
A quick check with Quincey at least allayed her biggest fears; Tora was well and alive, just not responding.  
“You can come over here, he should drop by later,” Quincey said, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of something shattering on the floor. “Oh, dammit! Sorry, Poppy-dear, that was my cup. How about this? I order us some food and you come over and we talk about the manuscript, okay? I have to find out whereI keep my broom now…”   
The line went silent and Poppy shook her head with a smile as she tucked her phone away. So Tora was avoiding her, huh?   
Why wasn’t she surprised? This guy had to learn to use his words instead of simply doing what he feels like whenever they hit a rough spot.  
There was a limit to Poppy’s patience and understanding. She would take Quincey up on his offer and as soon as Tora showed up, she would demand an explanation. With a firm nod she got up and gathered her things, letting Erdene know in passing she was off to meet Noyouko and left towards the train station. 

Tora glared at his phone. He had just showered when Quincey texted him to come over because he needed a driver. No rest for the wicked, he figured as he set the phone down on his sink. The mirror showed him the usual: hair still dripping, but at least he didn’t need to shave just yet. The bruises on his face had healed up completely, the few still faintly visible on his upper body would soon vanish, too. The scar on his thigh would stay, though.   
Not that Vincent cared. That bastard sent him right back into the next job, and at least another one each day ever since. Probably had to make clear that the Tiger of Ares Street was still as fierce as ever.   
Tora was tired. How long would he have to go on like that? How many more years, more scars, more deaths?   
His phone buzzed again. Bobby. A smile tugged at his lips as he read the random message about a street sign saying ‘Tiger Street’ in some city he had never heard of.   
Shit, he missed her. But this was a good test. She would have to learn to live without him eventually, she’d better got used to early in this thing between them.   
None of the labels fit them. Relationship? Definitely not. Affair? Sounded too physical. Fling? Too meaningless. Hook-up? Too casual. Friendship? Maybe, if they added a ‘with benefits’.   
He had no clue. He called her sweetheart, she called him Tora. Those were the only labels they needed.   
With a grunt he wiped his mirror clean; it had fogged up from the steam of his shower. He better got dressed and checked what Quincey needed him for. That was still better than whatever his father had in store for Tora. 

Quincey opened the door, nose still in his manuscript.   
“Come in, honey.”   
She wasn’t sure if he actually knew it was her or if he referred to everyone as ‘honey’; he definitely called Tora that, although Quincey was probably the only one who would get away with it. Even Poppy refrained from pet names for Tora. He was hers, and that was all she ever wanted to call him anyway.   
“So, have you finished another chapter or is it writer’s block I should help you with?” She took off her shoes, immediately shrinking by a few inches. The carpet was so soft and fluffy, she didn’t mind walking barefoot anyway.   
“A bit of both,” Quincey admitted and looked at her for the first time that day. “I am pretty happy with the last chapter but now I’m not sure how to go on. And how much foreshadowing is enough, but not too much.” He blinked at Poppy, her soft pink sweater and the tight jeans made her look even more like a girl. Innocent and sweet. Clueless.   
“Ah, yes, that is a problem.” Rummaging through her purse she walked straight into the living room, feeling at home enough to not wait for him. With a notepad and a pen she waited on the couch for him.   
“So, which events and developments are you hinting at? And is it inconspicuous enough to only make sense at the second reading?”   
“You tell me,” Quincey huffed and handed her the manuscript only to slump down on the couch next to her. “I’m so excited to write the central scene of this whole novel that I dropped hints for the last few chapters already.”  
“Playing with sexual tension and the affection of the two main characters isn’t exactly foreshadowing.” Poppy scanned the pages, absentmindedly patting his thigh. “It’s just teasing the readers, not hinting at your plans for the rest of the book. I mean, everyone who picks up a Q.B. Noyouko novel expects some sexual tension and at some point, a sex scene.”   
“But it’s not about the smut!” With a wail Quincey sank deeper into the cushions. “There will be a huge twist coming and I don’t want the reader to know immediately, but I want them to somehow sense something is going to happen.”   
“That is tough.” Poppy stared at the pages; so far she couldn’t sense anything looming in the main character’s future but then again, she had brainstormed so often with him already, they had changed the general plot more often that she cared to count. Despite his carefree manner and fancy appearance, Quincey was a serious writer and therefore a perfectionist.   
“How about you outline the next few chapters, maybe even write them, and come back to add the right amount of foreshadowing?”   
“But that is so much work and I want it to flow naturally,” he whined and plopped down, his head ending up on her lap.   
“It will flow naturally and not seem like some inside joke if you do it correctly,” Poppy assured him and patted his head.   
“You are the only one who understands me.” Nuzzling into her palm Quincey sighed. He froze a second later when someone cleared their throat. It wasn’t Poppy.   
“Oh, hello, booboo.” Quincey shot up, his head almost hitting Poppy’s chin.   
Tora gave them a blank look, arms crossed in front of him.   
“Looking cozy, you two.”   
“And you look brooding as always,” Quincey gave back. “What took you so long?”   
With her gaze on the tip of her shoes Poppy waited for their conversation to come to an end. What had she expected? Tora hadn’t called her in days and now she just showed up at his work. Well, technically it was her work, too.   
“Business stuff,” Tora replied and shrugged. “What happened to you wanting to go out?” He motioned towards Poppy and the pile of snacks and drinks on the table in front of her.   
“I will, later,” Quincey waved him off. “Now I’m in the middle of a plotting session.”   
Tora’s expression darkened further.   
“Didn’t look like that for me.”   
Poppy looked up just to find Tora glare at her. He stalked towards the kitchen, probably to raid the fridge.   
“Do you think he’s mad because I’m here?” she whispered, but Quincey shook his head.   
“No, honey. He’s angry at himself for allowing you to see him in a weak state. He’s the Tiger of Ares Street after all, and you saw him completely helpless. It’s an ego thing.” Patting her thigh reassuringly Quincey only stopped when Tora came back, pointedly glaring at the hand on Poppy’s leg.   
“I think I need a break,” Quincey declared with his usual dramatic flair. “I will try to meditate over your words, Poppy-dear, but please stick around so we can discuss it further later.”   
Without waiting for an answer he swaned out, towards his bedroom.   
Seconds ticked by, accumulating into minutes without a word from either of them. Poppy kept reading the manuscript, scribbled notes down here and there while Tora leaned against a wall and stared at her.   
“If you have to say something, do so,” she finally broke the silence. “But since you didn’t reply to my messages I figure you don’t have anything to say.”   
Her pen flew over the page, correcting typos and adding comments with a steady hand, save for a slight tremble every now and then.  
“We should end this.” His voice was emotionless, his face his usual stoic mask.   
Poppy’s hand paused. She inhaled deeply and added another note.  
“No.”   
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”   
She found him with his brow furrowed, uncrossing his arms as he pushed his body away from the wall.   
“‘No’ means ‘no’. We are not breaking up just because your ego got bruised.” Putting the pen down - the last line she had drawn was all wiggly anyway - Poppy leaned back in the couch, chin raised challengingly.   
“Dammit, Bobby, it’s not about me looking weak in front of ya,” he grumbled and plopped down in a seat across from her. “This was only the beginning, can’t ya see that? It’s been years since I got hurt that badly, but let’s face it, there will be guys bigger than me, faster, stronger. More ruthless. One of these days -” He shook his head as if to get rid of the images in his mind. “I don’t wanna do that to ya, sweetheart.”   
“You don’t want to do what exactly?” Far from backing down Poppy wrinkled the paper with her iron grip.   
“Don’t want ya wait for me to come home only to find out I’m dead.” He leaned forwards with his arms on his thighs, holding her gaze.   
“So… you think it’s better to break my heart now for certain instead of maybe breaking it later?” she asked dryly and snorted. “Makes sense.”   
“It’s not a ‘maybe’. I might not even make it to 30, Poppylan. I’m in the fuckin’ mafia, and the only way out for me is feet first.”   
She inhaled sharply. She had known, of course, but they had never talked about it before, not actually put it into words, no misunderstandings or sugarcoating possible.   
“This ain’t your life, sweetheart, ya shouldn’t even be part of any of this. Working with Quinceton included. Ya deserve better.” His shoulders slumped as he dropped his head.   
“No.” Poppy got up, took the three steps over to him and tangled her hands in his hair, pulling his head up so he had to look at her.   
“I don’t deserve ‘better’. There is no one better for me than you, when will you finally get that into that thick skull of yours?” Her fingers trembled as she slid her hands lower to cup his face. “I admit, I am scared. I am scared to lose you, now or later. I am scared to get left behind, to have to stay at the sidelines with no chance to help you.” She sniffled but kept her hands where they were. “I am not scared of the life you lead, though. Seeing you in that bed the other day, covered in bruises and bandages - do you know what I was thinking?”   
A weak shake of his head, just as much movement as she allowed, prompted her to go on. “I wanted to find the ones who did that to you and make them suffer.”   
Tora huffed a chuckle. “Ballsy lil’ hamster.”   
“I might be a hamster and not a tiger, but that doesn’t mean I am weak and helpless. What really got to me was the fact that, if Quincey hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have found out at all.” She rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes.   
“When - when my dad died, I was devastated. But it was a clean cut, you know? Yes, it hurt, more than I could have ever imagined, but you know what was worse?” She pulled back and crawled into his lap.   
“What?” Arms wrapped around her he listened with the same intensity he did everything concerning Poppy.   
“Waiting for my mom to come back. She walked out on us one day and just didn’t come back. And I figured, if I was a good girl - pretty enough, nice enough, smart enough - she would come back one day. She never came back and I still have no idea where she might be. Why she left. My dad - he had no choice, and I miss him every day. It hurt like hell at first, but now it dulled to a background ache.” Nuzzling his neck Poppy hid her face against his skin, inhaling his scent. Smoke, soap and Tora.   
“But my mom? She left a wound that never healed and never will. Every once in a while hope flares back up, followed by pain.”  
He hummed, his hand stroke up and down her back.   
“So when you didn’t answer my messages the last few days, that hurt me. More than the fear of losing you.” His hand stilled.   
“Shit, Bobby… I just - I figured it would be easier for you if I just ain’t that present in your life anymore.”   
“That’s rubbish and you know it. It would make it easier for you,” she pointed out, pulling back to glare at him. “For me it’s torture. So here’s the deal.”   
In business mode she straightened as good as she could while sitting in his lap. “You stop talking about breaking up and will reply to my texts at least once a day.”   
“And you?” A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth; she was so determined and cute.   
“I will stop pestering you about getting out.”   
He raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t the worst deal he ever made.   
“Fine.”   
Poppy smiled at him, blinding him with her happiness. “Fine. See, I understand that you can’t just leave the mafia.”  
He nodded; she could feel his body relaxing gradually. Poppy gathered her courage and dropped the bomb.   
“And that’s why I want to get in.”


	9. 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tora isn't happy about Poppy's idea of joining the mafia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive!   
> The last 3 weeks were THE WORST, but now I'm back on track! Work has calmed down and I can finally go back to writing. Short chapter update today, just to get back into the story.

The tiger roared. Tora grabbed Poppy’s hips and lifted her off his lap.   
“I’m gonna KILL THE FUCKING PRINCESS!” With a few big strides he crossed the living room, on his way to hunt down his prey. Poppy scrambled up and ran after him, unsure what was happening.   
“Quinceton! Open the fucking door or I’ll kick it in, for fuck’s sake!” He slammed his fist against the wooden door until Quincey answered from the other side.   
“What the hell? What’s wrong with you?”   
As soon as the door was open Tora was in Quincey’s face. “What the fuck did ya tell her, huh? Did ya make it sound all romantic and shit? The thrill? The power?”   
“Tora, it wasn’t-” Poppy began only to get cut off by Quincey.   
“Booboo, I’m not sure what this is about, but I don’t like it when you yell at me like this.” Arms crossed in front of him he pouted at Tora. They were almost the same height, Poppy noticed during their stare-down. Not that Quincey could measure up to Tora, especially if the tiger was furious as he was now. So Poppy did what she thought was best, she stepped between them and stretched her arms out to both sides.   
“Listen to me, Quincey has nothing to do with it. He hasn’t told me anything; he always told me to ask you instead.”   
Meeting his glare with a determined gaze of her own Poppy didn’t budge. For the first time she noticed the small vein on his forehead, how his jaw ticked while he gritted his teeth. He was livid, but she had expected nothing less.   
When she put a hand on his arm Tora didn’t even flinch.   
“So it was only your idea?” he growled instead.   
“Yes, it was. So how about you and I have a serious talk-”  
“What was only her idea?” Quincey interrupted before Poppy could lead Tora away.   
“She wants in,” Tora spat, his whole body brimming with anger.   
“In? In what?”   
Poppy hung her head and sighed. “I want to join your organisation.”   
“No.” Both Quincey and Tora shook their heads, shared a surprised glance before they glared at Poppy again.   
“Poppy-dear, you don’t want to be part of it,” Quincey cooed and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not a pleasant life.”   
“But being left out is pleasant? Having to hide? Having to be afraid the one you love won’t come back from a ‘job’ one day?” Poppy shook off Quincey’s touch, both her hands on her hips.   
“To be honest, you knew about this when you started dating Tora,” Quincey pointed out, a bit huffed. He sniffled once and crossed his arms in front of him.   
“Quincey, you are dear to me, and I consider you a friend. But I also think this is a conversation between me and Tora and I would appreciate it if you would keep your thoughts to yourself as long as we haven’t hashed this out yet. Don’t worry,” she assured him, “there will be the time for you to add your opinion, but for now I’d rather hear what Tora has to say, not what you think he wants to say.”   
Quincey blinked. He looked to Tora who shrugged, face unreadable as always.   
“This is my home!” Quincey complained, pouting at both of them.   
“And we are grateful you welcome us here. But this is our relationship and if both you and Tora try talking me out of this, I do feel at a disadvantage. I’d even say, I feel like you gang up against me to get your way.”   
“Wow,” Quincey exhaled, blue eyes wide and jaw dropped. “You really are feisty.”   
“Ballsy, is what Tora likes to call it.” Some tension vanished from the tight line of her shoulders and back.   
“Fine. Go and have a chat. But afterwards I want to know all of the details.” With a wave of his hand Quincey dismissed them and Poppy marched back towards the living room, trusting Tora would follow her. 

He still didn’t talk. Poppy sat on the couch, fiddling with some loose thread of her skirt.   
“I was thinking -”  
“No.” Leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, Tora glared at her.  
“What?”  
“I don’t care what ya were thinkin’, sweetheart. The answer is still ‘no’. You’re not gonna join. Period.”  
“You won’t even listen to my reasoning?!” The full force of her big brown eyes was directed at him but he didn’t budge.   
“No. There ain’t no reasoning if ya actually think about getting involved with the mafia.”   
“Oh.” Poppy narrowed her eyes at him and snorted. “I thought I was already involved, since you and Quincey are both part of it. I just wanted to make it official just in case Quincey isn’t available next time you get hurt or even worse and I sit at home without a fudging clue!” She threw her hands up and slumped deeper into the cushions of the couch. “What if both of you get hurt one day? Or killed? I would never know, Tora. I would probably guess at some point, but until then I would think you left me, because let’s face it, you could have anyone you want and I’m just - me.”   
“Don’t ya think ya can pull the whole insecurity card, Bobby. I just offered ya to break up, just gave ya an out and ya flat out refused. And I get it, ya know? We are a couple, we should decide the important things together. So I won’t try to end this between us on my own and ya won’t talk about that stupid idea anymore, got it?”   
He let his arms drop and sat down on the couch, leaving an arm’s length distance between them.   
“I - I just want to be a part of your life.” Shoulders slumped and her gaze on the ground, Poppy sniffled.   
“No. Not of that part of my life at least. Not now, not ever.” The finality in his voice made Poppy crumble further.  
“Never?”   
Tora shook his head. “Never. And don’t ya ever start with this shit again.” 

For a few days Tora had it all. Poppy stopped talking about joining the mafia; actually she stopped talking almost completely. She answered to questions, told him good night and good morning and screamed his name at night. But the usual spark was missing, the lively, bubbly chatter he had gotten used to.   
Even Quincey could tell the difference. Poppy still edited his writing, pointed out plot holes, typos and weak figures of speech, but the back and forth was gone, the bouncing of ideas between them.   
She was polite and kind, sweet like always. She just wasn’t herself anymore.   
And after a week Tora couldn’t stand it anymore. Even the tiger riceballs she made him looked sad. When he noticed that she hadn’t even shaped her own rice he had enough.   
“Ya ain’t gonna join the ranks,” he snarled and dropped his chopsticks. “But I’ll tell ya whatever ya wanna know. Happy?”   
For the first time in a week, Poppy smiled. She beamed at him, her eyes sparkling.   
“Yes! At least for now.”


	10. 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tora and Poppy have a good talk and a good time afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut wasn't planned, but episode 47 gave me so many fluffy feels, I had to write some fluffy smut. And they need some reprieve before things get difficult again...  
> Tora's backstory is completely made up by me since Miss Lilydusk keeps us in the dark about that.

Poppy didn’t delve into it right away. Instead she took her time, made dinner and even threw together a dessert Tora could eat since it was high in protein and low in sugar so it wouldn’t  
mess with his diet.  
Only after they ate and sat on the couch/bed with a cup of tea and the balcony door wide open to let in the fresh night air, she asked the first, careful question.  
It wasn’t the dreaded: ‘What exactly do you do in the organisation?’ Tora had expected. It was even worse.  
“How do you feel about being in the mafia?”  
He almost choked on his tea, coughed lowly instead of spluttering it back out. “What do ya think? I hate it.”  
She nodded, both hands wrapped around her cup, the slightly chipped side facing away from her.  
“Only the - the secret part or would you rather stop working for Quincey, too?”  
Tora made a face and set his cup down. “Nah, the princess isn’t half bad. Not my favorite pastime, driving him around, but at least his cars are nice.”  
She took a sip and listened to the sounds from outside. The rustling of leaves, the occasional night bird.  
“How did you end up there?” Her voice was quiet, hesitant, but her gaze held his. Open, curious. Without judging.  
“‘s was my old man. Sold me to Vincent to save his own, miserable life. Vince kinda liked the idea of having someone to watch after Quinceton, someone he could form into the perfect soldier.” Tora motioned once up and down his own body. “Didn’t work out that well.”  
“Your father sold you? What about your mother?”  
“Dunno. He might have sold her, too. I can barely remember her.”  
With a sigh Poppy rested her head against his shoulder. “Looks like we got something in common. Bad luck when it comes to parents.”  
“Rotten luck, I’d say.” His hand rested on her thigh as she snuggled closer against his side.  
“Well, at least my father didn’t leave me in the hands of some criminal. My mother, though… do you know if your parents are still alive?”  
“Dunno, don’t care.” He pressed a kiss on her hair and laced his fingers with hers.  
“Tora?”  
He hummed and waited for her to sort out her thoughts.  
“If it wasn’t for Vincent, what kind of life would you want for yourself?”  
By the end of the night he still had no answer to that one. 

Little by little Poppy wormed her way into the secrets of Tora’s actual job. Not the dark, grisly details, not the violence and crime. But when she asked about his schedule, whether he would come home at night or be available to talk over the phone, whether he was safe - which he usually didn’t outright confirm, but at least vaguely hinted at - whether he was hurt, he answered, as truthfully as he could without putting her in danger, as he often pointed out.  
She began to understand that his life was dominated by constant fear and worries, and most of them were about the safety of others. Barely ever his own.  
“I’m going to see Quincey about this new chapter today,” Poppy let him know over breakfast. Some cereals, nothing too fancy, but at least with fresh fruit.  
“In the afternoon? Should I pick ya up?” He sipped his tea, from a mug that Poppy had painted with flowers. He had considered taking that mug home, just because.  
“It’s fine, I can take the train. It’s the middle of the day.” She picked up some slices of banana with her spoon, together with some oats and milk.  
“I’d rather come and get ya.” He scrunched up his nose, leveling a glare at her.  
“I know, but I don’t want to inconvenience you.” She patted his arm and finished her bowl.  
“Would be safer if I drove ya,” he pointed out.  
“With how fast you’re driving and the way you’re ignoring most of the traffic rules? I’m not so sure about that.”  
“Hey, I thought ya enjoy a lil’ thrill every now and then.” His smirk made her blush.  
“I have to get ready now.” Poppy jumped up, heading for the bathroom but Tora caught her wrist before she could rush past him.  
“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Why are ya so - nervous now, huh?” He pulled her into his lap, his free hand brushing her reddened cheek. “What kinda thrill were ya thinking about?”  
“I have no idea what you’re hinting at,” she denied, hands balled in her lap.  
“Not sure I can believe ya.” His chuckle rumbled through his chest; pressed so closely against him she could feel it. “What kinda chapter are ya gonna work on with Quinceton today?”  
Poppy blinked, the sudden change in topic welcome but unexpected. “Why are you asking?”  
“Well, Quinceton told me that sometimes ya are more helpful with the spicier chapters and I figured that’s mostly when I spent the night before. Why’s that?” His breath ghosted over her neck as he nuzzled the sensitive skin under her ear. “So, what kinda chapter?”  
“A - a spicy one,” she confessed, eyes cast down and head tilted a bit to give him more room to kiss down the column of it.  
“Hmmm… maybe we should make sure ya gonna be a good editor for that, huh?” His hands slipped under her tank top, gliding over warm skin covered in goosebumps.  
“I - I’m going to be late for work,” she sighed, not putting up much of a fight, though.  
“I’m gonna drive ya there. Saves us - 20, 25 minutes. Enough to get ya into the right mindset for that smut.” Tora bucked his hips and grinned at Poppy’s gasp. She was so beautiful, all flustered and flushed, obediently leaning into his touch. How she angled her face towards him for a kiss. Her lips so soft, her tongue eagerly seeking out his. She shifted in his lap, straddled him, her knees touching the floor as she rocked against him. 

Fuck, this woman was incredible and Tora was utterly, completely under her spell. One of these days he would have to leave her, not on his own free will but because he was taken from her, but as long as he could he would spend his life making her happy, making her smile, making her cry out his name as he gave her all the pleasure her breathtaking, tiny body could handle.  
He was addicted to her, the warm smile, the happy voice, her beautiful heart. He didn’t deserve her, hell knew he didn’t, but greedy as he was he held onto her. Silently vowing to protect her with his life if necessary he basked in her light for as long as he was allowed to.  
For now, he tugged her top up and off her, revealing her naked breasts to his hungry eyes and greedy hands.  
Maybe he would live long enough to get used to her scent and taste, the feeling of her body pressed against his, the little cries and moans she let out when his lips and tongue caressed her dusty nipples, but he would never get tired of it.  
Tora slid his hands up her ribs, over the ticklish spot that made her jerk and gasp, skimming over her breasts to cup her face and pull her into a kiss.  
Poppy wrapped her arms around him, hand tugging at the back of his shirt until he reached back and pulled it off him. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, naked skin on skin as she pressed her soft breasts against his firm chest, the contrast between them obvious and yet they fitted so perfectly together.  
Tora marveled at her boldness when she rocked her hips against his, grinding against the growing bulge in his joggers, making him groan.  
“Fuck, sweetheart, I was just jokin’.”  
“Too bad,” she whispered. “I’m taking you up on your offer. After all you promised to be honest with me.”  
“Yeah, don’t worry. That kind of offer always stands.”  
She giggled and swatted his arm. “You’re terrible.”  
“Terribly handsome.” With both hands under her butt he struggled to get on his feet and succeeded, but not without Poppy yelping in surprise. She made the same sound again when he dropped her on the bed, hands sliding down to her shorts. She raised her hips to help him take it off her, staring up at him with her big brown eyes and her lips slightly parted. Tora pushed his pants down, kicked them off before he crawled on top of her, his tongue drawing a line up her leg, but once he reached her knees she didn’t part them like usual.  
“We - we don’t have that much time.”  
She was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He prefered to make her feel good, to loosen her up and get her ready for his cock. She was tiny after all; in the beginning he was even afraid of crushing her. By now he knew that wouldn’t happen, but still, he loved to make her squirm and tremble, make her moan and scream his name.  
He would have to make her do all this some other way, then. Plopping down next to her he slipped a hand between her thighs; this time she let him, leaning in for some kisses while he explored her folds with nimble fingers.  
It wasn’t only the lack of time, it was mostly the sudden urge to have her right there and then what made him impatient. He grabbed a condom from the stash in her nightstand and ripped it open; rolled it over his cock before he settled on top of her, sinking into her open arms and her delicious heat.  
Her breath came in short huffs, every roll of his hips elicited a small sound from her. He tried to swallow them all, his lips never leaving hers. She clung to him, arched up to be even closer, and a surge of pride and possessiveness washed over him.  
Another deep kiss and he pushed up on his knees, one hand slipping between their bodies to seek out the spot that would make her sing.  
He needed to feel it, had to make her reach her high before he could allow himself release. So when her cries reached a higher pitch, her legs trembled and her fingernails bit into his skin he redoubled his efforts until she tensed and wailed loudly, eyes closed and head thrown back into the pillows. He slowed down so she could catch her breath, waiting for her to signal him to go on before he focused on his own pleasure. 

Sweaty, breathless but completely sated Poppy snuggled closer to Tora.  
“Ya gotta get ready soon,” he reminded her, eyes closed as he enjoyed how her fingers drew random patterns on his chest.  
“Mhm…”  
“Will ya let me pick ya up and take ya to Quincey later?”  
Poppy rolled on top of him and kissed his nose. “Will you accept it if I say no?”  
“Nope.”  
She sighed and nuzzled his chest, the bit of free skin between his tattoos. “Fine. Come and get me after lunch. And now I have to shower. Again.”  
He laughed at her glare, offered her to join but she stuck out her tongue and rushed into the bathroom. 

“Poppy-dear, it was about time! I’m afraid I’m stuck and I really need your opinion on this scene!” Quincey had barely opened the door when he already wandered back into the living room, leaving Poppy to take off her shoes and coat and close the door on her own.  
“I’m gonna hit the gym. Will pick ya up and take ya out to dinner later, okay?” Having safely delivered her to Quincey’s doorstep Tora stayed in the hallway and beckoned her closer for a quick kiss.  
“Okay, have fun. I’m afraid this will be a tough session; he’s obviously in a dramatic mood today.” With a bright smile she sent Tora off before she slipped out of her shoes and followed Quincey. After all there was work to do and Poppy had never shied away from that.


	11. 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poppy gets invited to a party and Tora is not amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to progress with the plot, so yeah...

“See, this way the scene flows much better and feels less erratic.” Poppy leaned back in her seat, waiting for Quincey to either accept or refuse her edits.   
“But isn’t it too obvious this way?” He threw his hands up and slumped on the couch.   
“It’s only obvious to you since you already know where this is heading. The readers won’t expect this at all. They will think they get some nice steamy smut, they won’t see this twist coming. By the way, the smut is top notch again. You could add some intimacy, though, just for the betrayal later to hit even harder.”   
“Ugh, my head is all clogged up.” Quincey flopped down, one arm thrown over his eyes. “I need a break.”  
He shot up again, eyes sparkling. “I know! I’ll make us some cocktails!”   
“I can’t drink, I’m on the clock,” Poppy objected. “But I would take a virgin cocktail.”   
“As if it’s not too late for that,” Quincey mumbled under his breath.   
“What did you say?” Poppy blinked, looking up from the manuscript.  
“Nothing, dear. Do you want some fruity or tart?” Already on his way to his kitchen Quincey exhaled when she chirped a: ‘Sweet, please,’ and went back to reading.   
She had added some more comments when he came back and offered her a glass, decorated with a straw and a small umbrella.   
“Thanks.” Just when she got up to take it from him he bent down to hand the glass over. They ended up bumping into each other, spilling sticky-sweet juice all over Poppy and Quincey’s pants. She managed to save the manuscript, but not her skirt or blouse.   
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Poppy cried out, wiping at Quincey’s probably overly expensive shirt and pants with her sleeve.   
“It’s fine, Poppy-dear. But remind me to never actually give you alcohol.” With a sigh he downed the remaining drink and gave her a once over. “How badly soaked are you?”  
“Uh… completely?” Hiding her upper body with her arms Poppy looked like a drowned rat. Her hair was still fine, but her clothes were stained and soaked down to her underwear.   
“You can’t sit on my couch like this,” Quincey decided. “You will ruin the cushions.” Another deep sigh and he motioned for her to follow him. “Let us find something you can wear for now; at least until your clothes are dried.”   
Careful not to drip on his carpet Poppy hobbled after him, towards the bathroom, wondering what kind of clothes she would end up in. 

Dressed in a purple satin button down and some burgundy silk boxers, Poppy sat on the couch, passing the time she waited for Quincey to get changed by reading more of the chapter. She struggled to keep her eyes open; Tora had kept her awake well into the last night, and although she would never complain about it, his irregular hours messed with her sleeping schedule.   
Quincey’s couch was just too comfy, she snuggled deeper into the plush cushions, eyelids drooping as her hands sank into her lap.   
She jolted awake when a loud knock sounded from the front door.   
“Poppy-dear? That’s probably Booboo, can you let him in?” Quincey called from his bedroom.   
On her bare feet she padded over to the door and unlocked it, only to find an unknown face staring down at her.   
“Is - Mr. Balthuman in?”   
A tall man in a dark suit, with glasses and a beard, his hair tied back into a ponytail glared at her.   
“Uhm… one moment, please.” Poppy closed the door again, spun around on her heel and rushed to the bedroom. “Quincey, you better go and get that yourself. I have no idea who that is, but he looks - serious.”   
Without pants Quincey hurried to the door, while Poppy stayed back, in the hallway behind a corner to eavesdrop but stay out of sight.   
“Martin… I didn’t expect you today.” Quincey’s back blocked her view on the visitor, and his tone was enough to tell her that Martin wasn’t a welcome sight.   
“Well, young Master, your father sends me since you haven’t answered to his invitation yet. We figured it might have gotten lost in the mail so I’m here to deliver it in person. This is a very important event and you are a special guest, so I was told not to leave here until you agree on attending.”   
The visitor - Martin, Poppy reminded herself - had a low, smooth voice, a natural talker. And there was a mixture of respect and annoyance; without seeing his face Poppy couldn’t tell how much of each was in his words, though. She peeked out from behind the wall only to jump back again when Quincey allowed Martin inside.   
“You know I’m not keen on coming to any of these parties,” Quincey just said and sank onto his couch.   
“But your father insists and I don’t want to be the one having to tell him that you refuse to show up when he gathers all the important people, planning to show off his heir.” Martin had followed Quincey, but kept standing instead of sitting down.   
Poppy inched closer to the corner. She shouldn’t eavesdrop, but where else should she go anyway?   
“I still have a few months left,” Quincey insisted.   
“But this isn’t a real debut. Just a party with friends, family and business partners. And you are part of his family after all. You are his son. By the way, he wants Tora to come, too. And maybe you can bring your little lady over there.” Martin turned his head into Poppy direction and she ducked out of sight.   
“What?” Quincey shrieked only for Martin to let out a curt laughter.   
“I am not stupid, young Master. She opens the door, obviously dressed in your clothes. You run around without pants. Don’t worry, I’m sure your father will welcome her with open arms. He had feared - other options. Not that he wouldn’t love and support you either way, but such a cute girl will probably ease his worries about the - succession.”   
Poppy’s face erupted in heat, she clutched the hem of the shirt and pulled it further down.   
“Oh, no, no, no. I won’t bring her, just so that’s clear.” Quincey got up and straightened to his full height. It would have been more impressive if he had worn pants; but Martin only cocked his head slightly.   
“Well, that would be a shame. I’m pretty sure your friend would be very impressed by the party, your father went all out. Maybe we should send her an invitation of her own.”   
Even behind the wall Poppy could hear Quincey inhaling sharply.   
“You wouldn’t dare!”   
“I wouldn’t,” Martin agreed. “But your father would and it is my duty to inform him about everything you and I talked about.”   
With a nod he excused himself, leaving without Quincey walking him to the door.   
A few colorful curses sounded from Quincey as soon as the door fell shut behind Martin. Poppy inched out from her hiding place.   
“That - uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to cause any trouble for you…” she mumbled, shuffling closer to Quincey who was draped over his couch, the back of one hand pressed against his forehead.  
“No, darling, this isn’t your fault. But it is exactly what Booboo was so worried about. If you are associated with me or him or the whole organisation…” He sat up again, nibbling at the edge of the fingernail of his pinkie. “This could be really bad.”  
“Or-” Poppy began and sat down next to him. “It could be a chance for me to peek into your world without having to be a real part of it. I mean, think about it: Would anyone really mess with young Master Balthuman’s girl?” Even she cringed at those words, it felt wrong to think of herself as belonging to someone else but Tora.   
“My girl, huh? Well, he won’t be thrilled about that, either. But you might be right. It would be less dangerous than people thinking you are Tora’s girl.”   
The sound of that label tickled Poppy inwardly, although the seriousness of the situation prevented the bubbles in her stomach from actually rising and popping.   
“So, what are we going to do?” she asked, drawing her legs up and tucking them under herself.   
“This is my father we are talking about,” Quincey sighed. “So I guess we are going dress shopping.” 

Poppy washed the dishes in silence. Just the clinking of glass and porcelain against the sink filled the kitchen; she kept her head down and her gaze on her hands, ignoring the glowering giant leaning against the doorframe. She just rinsed the last bowl and placed it on the dish rack before wiping the counter top and turning to face his disapproval.   
“It wasn’t my idea,” she repeated for the umpteenth time.   
“Don’t like it.” His lips drawn into a line, eyes narrowed at her he also repeated what he had told her before.   
“I didn’t ask for it. But you have to admit, there’s not much we could do about it. Quincey says-”  
“Yeah, yeah. Heard it all when ya first told me. Still, don’t like it.” He let his arms sink from where they had been crossed in front of him.   
“Well, I had asked you to be a part of your life, your world. I didn’t expect it to happen like this, but at least you won’t have to hide me anymore.” One hand on his upper arm Poppy beamed up at him.   
“Wasn’t hiding ya, sweetheart. I was keeping ya safe. And now, with Vincent fuckin’ Balthuman aware of your existence... “ He shook his head. “Fuck, ‘s my nightmare.” One of many.   
“Hey,” she gently cupped his face and pulled him down towards her. “You will be with me, right? What could happen?”   
“Ya mean besides Vince going mental and completely fuckin’ up your life ‘cause he doesn’t like ya bein’ his son’s ‘girl’?” He almost spat out the last word, making Poppy frown.   
“Say, are you angry because I will go to that party or are you angry I will go as Quincey’s plus one?”   
He scoffed. “Sweetheart, ya told me why ya were dressed like that and all, I get it. I believe ya. Trust ya even. Besides, Quincey knows better than tryin’ anything when it comes to ya. He knows I’d kill him if he did anything to ya.” His hands came to rest on her waist, seeking contact but not holding her down.   
“But?” she prompted, wrapping her arms around his neck.   
“Poppy, that’s not just any party and Vincent’s not just some host. He’s ruthless, cunning, merciless. If he can’t use ya for anything, ya hold no worth to him. And worthless things or people get discarded, no questions asked.” He leaned in, his forehead touching hers as he closed his eyes. “Ya wanna know what the worst thing is he could do? Order me to get rid of ya. Because either way, we both would end up dead.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for shopping!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just KNEW what kind of dress Poppy should wear to that party. Let me know what you think about it 😄

Shopping with Quincey was an experience like none other. Despite Tora’s apparent disapproval they all drove to a mall. Poppy had objected, had told Quincey she still had her prom dress in her closet - whether it still fit was a different topic - but Quincey had told her he couldn’t be seen with anyone in vintage fashion unless it had a designer label. Now Poppy followed him with a heavy weight in her stomach and clammy hands. This mall was far from what she was used to. High class brands wherever she looked and price tags with more numbers on it than her paycheck had.   
Quincey seemed right at home, he flitted from one store to the next, only scanned the racks before he waved off the sales assistants.   
Poppy was at awe; he had a natural authority, knew exactly what he was looking for. She, on the other hand, got mostly ignored by the staff in the shops. She wondered if she should have dressed up, if her leggings and shirt combination wasn’t posh enough. (The answer was yes, obviously.) Even Tora got more attention, albeit for a different reason. His foul mood was almost palpable and although he wore his usual scowl, Poppy noticed many longing glances into his direction.   
“This isn’t what I’m looking for either,” Quincey declared and turned on his heel to leave a small boutique.   
“What are you looking for, then?” Somehow Poppy thought she should have a say in this after all.   
“Something fashionable, but cute. Let’s face it, darling, you are not exactly the sexy type. You pull off professional quite nicely, and cute is just your thing. That might work well for us anyway, I don’t want anyone else to hit on you, darling.” He chuckled briefly, ignoring Tora’s glare. “Not that anyone would dare; I’m Vincent’s son after all.”   
Tora scoffed, Poppy caught him rolling his eyes and offered him a warm smile.   
“Let’s try that one,” Quincey suggested and marched into another store.  
“Seven shops and I haven’t tried on anything yet,” Poppy mumbled and shook her head.   
A warm hand came to rest in the small of her back. “This is a field day for him. But ya gotta tell him if ya don’t like what he pulls for ya in the end.”   
“Hm, we’ll see what he has in mind. I won’t be able to afford it anyway.”   
“Sweetheart, he’s the one payin’ today, so ya better get something ya really like and will wear a lot. Don’t worry, this won’t hurt him a bit. Just try to enjoy it, after all you’re the one doing him a favor with this stunt.” He led her into the store, past the staring sales assistant and after Quincey who squealed in front of a rack with dresses.   
“Looks like ya gotta play mannequin for him now.” 

“How do I look?” she timidly asked and struggled out of the changing room. Layers and layers of fluffy, pink tulle, embroidered with sparkling strawberries and hemmed with soft ruffles made it hard to move. The dress ended way above the floor; on a taller woman it would have hit mid-calves, but for Poppy it was almost ankle-length.   
“Like a fashionable fairy,” Quincey exclaimed and clapped his hands.   
“Tora?” Poppy looked at her boyfriend who gave her a once over.   
“Color’s fine. But all that floof? And cleavage’s too low.”   
“Oh, stuff it. She’s gorgeous. Some heels, hair in some messy braid - fashion perfection.” Qincey stepped next to Poppy and turned her to face the mirror.  
“It hides most of your curves, which is a pity, but you look incredible. I’d say we take this.”   
“Isn’t it - too girly?” She carefully ran her hands over her hips, the embroidered strawberries rough under her fingertips.  
“No, it’s perfect. You look amazing, darling.” Next to Quincey she looked small, but for once fancy enough to not feel completely out of place.   
“You are fashionable, you look gorgeous and you will be able to compete with my outfit. I think this is it,” he affirmed once again.   
Poppy peeked at the price tag and blanched. “500 dollar?! That - I can’t wear that! That’s too expensive.”  
“It’s a present, darling, so no complaining. You are one of the few women who can pull this off. Let’s go and get you some matching heels and a purse,  
maybe some jewelry and -”   
“Quincey, that’s too much. I have heels at home and even a purse that would go well with this dress,” Poppy interrupted his shopping plans.   
“Poppy-dear, you can’t wear old shoes to a dress like this. Trust me, I’m a shopping expert and fashion enthusiast and all you have to do is let me spoil you a bit. This is also my reputation at stake here.” 

A bag with shoes, one with the dress and another bag full of whatever had caught Quincey’s eye later they wandered through the mall on the search for take out. Tora had grabbed the bags with Poppy’s outfit without a word, but had refused to also carry Quincey’s purchases. Now he trotted after Quincey who had linked his arm with Poppy’s - ‘To get used to casual PDA and make it look naturally’ - while Quincey kept blabbering about what he wanted to eat or not. Every few steps Poppy looked over her shoulder, gauging Tora’s mood.   
“Maybe we should just get a bunch of different things and make a buffet at home,” Quincey mused loudly, tugging Poppy further towards the food court.   
“Sounds good. Should I just give you my share of the bill or should I order for myself?”   
“No, no, you keep your money, darling. It’s my treat today.” He left no room for discussion and Poppy had learned a while ago that when it came to money, Quincey didn’t mind paying for her, too. Not after that embarrasing time they went out for a coffee and Poppy had counted her coins on the counter while the barista had stared at her dumbfoundedly.   
“Want some chicken,” Tora sulked from behind them.  
“Yes, yes, Booboo, you need your protein, I got it. So chicken, some sushi, some dumplings - oh, dessert! We need something sweet. And something spicy. Oh, dinner will be so much fun.”   
Poppy would have just cooked some rice and veggies, something she could eat for the next few days.   
“Curry? Ohhh, some soup as starter. What else?”   
They reached the first stalls, although it wasn’t like in the malls that Poppy usually visited. There was no smell of frying oil, no fast food. A small sushi place, some bistro-like restaurants, some deli stalls. Everything looked exclusive, delicious and most of all, expensive.   
Tora and Quincey headed to different stalls and ordered several dishes while Poppy plopped down on a bench and waited for them. Her head was spinning.   
She would go to this party, more or less against Tora’s will. But he would be there and that would give her a sense of safety. Having to pretend being Quincey’s date though would be a challenge. Yes, he was charming and good looking, but so flamboyant and loud, so different to Tora and his quiet, calming aura. Others might perceive him differently, but for Poppy he was a tower of strength. Or simply a tower, with his big build and broad shoulders. She sneaked a peek at him, scrolling through his phone while he waited for his order. Quincey, on the other side, was happily talking to the shop assistant.   
But this was the easiest way, she reminded herself. This would open her the doors which would usually be locked for someone like her.   
When both men headed back towards her Poppy got up and smiled at them.   
“Should I take some of the bags?” she asked and smoothed down her shirt.   
“No, Poppy-dear, don’t worry. Come, let’s head back to my place, there are some things you better learn before you make a blunder during the party.”   
Tora and Quincey exchanged a glance that made Poppy nervous. Whatever this was about, she probably wouldn’t like it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some serious talk gives Poppy an idea about just in what she had gotten herself into...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, it's not the day of the party yet, but that part needs some serious plotting before. So I will probably write some smut next, just because it's fun and they deserve some ;)

Quincey strung her along for the whole dinner, but over dessert Poppy couldn’t hold back any longer.   
“Could you just tell me already? I can’t even taste my ice cream.” She stirred in her bowl, ice cream, strawberries and whipped cream melted into a mush. Tora had eaten most of the food and was now enjoying some frozen yoghurt with strawberries. No whipped cream for him, but after almost a pound of chicken and a huge serving of curry that was probably the best.   
“We wanted to wait until after dinner to not spoil our appetite,” Quincey explained and wiped his mouth with a napkin.   
“That bad?” Poppy’s eyes widened, her spoon clanked against the bowl.   
“Not bad, just - serious.” Quincey looked to Tora who shrugged.   
“Your party, you gotta tell her yourself, Quinceton.”   
“Fine,” Quincey sighed and pushed his plate back. “Well, Poppy-dear, the party itself won’t be a problem. You dress up, stay close to me, smile and talk to no one.”   
She blinked. Talking to no one?   
“Since Martin saw you, they probably know everything about you that’s out there to find anyway.” Quincey seemed strangely at ease with this while Poppy felt panic rising in her stomach.   
“What do you mean? He - you didn’t even tell him my name.”   
“Bet he looked at the security cam footage and ran ya pic through every program and database,” Tora dryly said. “Good thing we’re not that clingy outside.”   
Her brain needed a moment to process his words. It was true, he usually only held her hand when they were in the car or inside of her apartment. Kissing and hugging? The same. And everything else of course only happened behind closed doors.   
“So you - you expected something like this to happen?”   
“Wouldn’t say it like that. Just - it’s good to be prepared and careful, that’s all.” Tora held her gaze, unwavering, unblinking. Another thing she had gotten used to. Despite all the secrecy she knew he was as honest with her as he could without putting her in harm’s way.   
“Oh, okay.” She dropped her gaze to her hands, fingers interlaced, knuckles white from her tight grip.   
“Martin is one of the best men my father has,” Quincey gently explained. “If he is in charge of finding out who you are, nothing can stop him.”   
“He’s a fuckin’ hound,” Tora spat out, nose scrunched up. “Will find ya even if ya hide in fuckin’ Siberia.”   
Poppy shot him a questioning gaze and he exhaled deeply. “Used to hunt me down whenever I ran off as a kid.”   
Quincey chuckled lowly. “And he did that often. You sneaked out at least once a week.”   
“You did?” Poppy’s warm eyes rested on Tora who shrugged again.   
“Got nothin’ better to do.”   
“He was a rascal, a little troublemaker. And mean to me.” With a dramatic sigh Quincey got up from the table and stacked some plates on top of each other, but left them standing while he wandered off towards the couch.   
“Yeah? And ya were a crybaby and a snitch.”   
Their smiles and fond tone took the sting out of their words.   
“So, this Martin guy is a tough cookie?” she steered the conversation back to the original topic.   
“Yep. Better not mess with him,” Tora advised, completely serious again.   
“Actually, if it was anyone else but Martin, I would try to talk my way out of this,” Quincey admitted. “But there’s no talking with him. Once he’s onto you, you’re done for.”   
“Although you are ‘young master Balthuman’?”   
He shuddered and made a face. “Especially since I am. Martin is a loyal advisor of my father, not fully his right hand man but close. He wants to see me follow my father’s footsteps almost as much as Vincent himself.”   
She recalled the conversation she had overheard between Quincey and Martin.   
“Quincey… you said you still had a few months' time. What was that about?”   
With her glass she followed him to the couch and took a seat across from him. Quincey shook his head slowly.   
“Right now I’m living on borrowed time, so to say. My father allowed me to pursue my writer’s dreams for a while, but eventually I have to return to the organisation and take the place to his right.” He picked at some imaginary lint on his sleeve and huffed a dry chuckle. “I have to marry some nice mafia woman, have mafia children and take over the business when my father resigns.”   
“And - that’s not what you want?” Her careful question, timid even, prompted another chuckle from him.   
“Me? Are you kidding? I can’t stand the sight of blood, I hate violence, I’m far from being the typical macho mob boss everyone expects. I mean, my father accepted my not so straight love affairs so far, under the condition I will produce an heir at some point. But that was the only concession he ever made.”   
Poppy nodded slowly. She never asked about Quincey’s preferences; it wasn’t her business after all. He wrote incredible steamy scenes between men and women, men and men and even women and women, sometimes with more than only two people involved, and Poppy had already suspected some of the scenes had been researched fairly thoroughly. But she would never outright ask.   
“Actually it might work in my favor that Martin saw you and mistook you for my lover.” Quincey perked up again. “That way I might be spared the parade of daughters of business partners. I’m a romantic after all, if I ever get married, it should be out of love and not as a political business decision.”   
“But ya not marrying Poppy,” Tora growled.   
“Of course not!” Quincey shot Tora a withering glare. “Don’t get me wrong, Poppy-dear, but you are not exactly my type. You are cute and all, but I need someone more - exciting. Someone who makes my heart race.”   
“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’m not offended. I know who I am.”   
Hands in her lap she waited for Quincey to continue.   
“Anyway, we need a good story about how we met. We can’t fool my father with who you are and what you do, so how about we stick to the truth as much as possible? You work at my publisher and we fell in love over my brilliant writing.” Satisfied with this he leaned back into the cushions.  
“But won’t they think I’m just some - some gold digger?” she asked with wide eyes.   
“Darling, most of the women marrying mob bosses are not exactly - altruistic. No one would bat an eye if my devilish good looks and my brilliant mind weren’t the only things drawing you in. Actually it would help if you gushed a bit about the presents you get from me and the dates I take you on. Talk about restaurants and short trips and jewelry - that kind of things.”   
It dawned on Poppy why he had insisted on buying her that dress and the shoes. “I will jot down some names of clubs and restaurants, plus some of the locations I traveled to the last few months. Just memorize some of those and if anyone keeps asking, just pretend to be overwhelmed with it all.”  
Once again Poppy’ eyes widened, this time on purpose as her mouth dropped open into an ‘o’ shape.   
“What’s wrong, darling? Was that too much for you?” Quincey’s tone switched from cocky to concerned only for Poppy to shake her head and smile at him sweetly.   
“No, I just tried my ‘easily impressed’ face,” she smugly said and leaned back. “Was it convincing?”  
“You looked like a perfect Barbie doll. I’m impressed.”   
Tora snorted and grabbed the dirty dishes to take them to the kitchen.   
“Ya better tell her the rest, too. Ya makin’ it sound like some fancy party without any things to worry about.”   
“What should I worry about?” Before Quincey could jump up and run off Poppy had stopped him, the playfulness gone now.   
“Ah, it’s just - my father is rather strict. Used to getting his way. So you don’t talk back to him, don’t berate him, don’t show him any emotion, especially if he said something insulting. Smile and laugh it off. You wear your heart on your sleeve most of the time and he is a shark. He senses when he hits a sore spot and he will mercilessly keep poking just to get the upper hand.”   
With an influence like that Poppy wondered how Quincey still could be so easy-going and kind.   
“Like I said, I know who I am. There’s not much he can say about me that would make me upset.” She placed a hand on his arm and squeezed lightly.   
Quincey patted her hand and sighed. “But what if he says something about Tora? Can you stay calm in that case, too?” 

Tora took her back home. Quincey and Poppy had talked some more and agreed on meeting up the next evening before the party so Quincey could help her with her styling and give her some last minute pointers.   
The gravity of the situation only began to sink in for Poppy. She would go to a mob boss’s home, would chat and eat and drink there with a bunch of criminals who probably knew where she lived and worked, would pretend to date someone she only considered a friend while the man she actually loved was just a couple of feet away.   
Quincey’s words echoed in her mind. Would she be able to stay calm if someone mistreated Tora? Maybe even Vincent, the man who had caused Tora so much pain already, had convinced him he wasn’t worth the dirt under Vicent’s shoes. And even more importantly, would Tora be able to stay calm if someone insulted Poppy? What if Vicnet didn’t like her and was mean to her?  
She gnawed on her bottom lip until a coppery taste spread in her mouth.   
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna be with ya all the time.” Tora rested a huge hand over hers, balled up in her lap. She flashed him a tired smile.   
“At least I get to dress up.” And see Tora in his suit. Not that he wasn’t mind-blowingly handsome and sexy in his casual clothes; even in a tank top and joggers he looked amazing. But with that black suit and white shirt, the first two buttons undone, hair tied back, he was simply stunning. Poppy only hoped she could keep herself from ogling him too much.   
“Yeah, that dress…”   
His voice faded as he pulled his hand back to steer the car around a corner.   
“You don’t like it?” She stared out of the window into the darkness mixed with artificial light.   
“Nah, ya look gorgeous in it. Your tits are just -” He growled lowly and laughed when she swatted his arm.   
“You know I don’t like that word.” Pulling her lips into an impressive pout Poppy glared at him.   
“Sorry, but it’s true. Ya look good enough to eat in that dress. Kinda hate that everyone will see ya like that.” He placed his hand on her thigh this time, warm and heavy.   
“But you are the only one allowed to see me naked,” she pointed out, heat creeping into her face at her bold words.   
Tora hummed. “Ya got any idea how hard it was to see ya in that dress there and not just drag ya into the changing room? How hard I was?” He threw her a sideglance and smirked as she squirmed in her seat.  
“R-really?”   
Again he hummed, a deep, rich tone that traveled directly down her spine. How could he make her feel like this with just a sound?   
“Wanna see?” He took one of her hands and placed it on his crotch, making her gasp at the hardness she found there. “Thinkin’ about ya in that dress alone makes me hard again.”   
“We- we are in a car,” she squeaked, but didn’t pull her hand away.   
“Did worse things in this car, remember?”   
Oh, and how she remembered. She wasn’t even sure what had triggered it, she only knew that all of sudden sexual tension and desire had clouded her mind and she had flat out told him she wanted him on the way home from a date. They hadn’t made it back home in time, he had pulled up the car in a secluded spot and she had climbed him right there and then. It had been cramped and uncomfortable, spontaneous and exciting. Still, she preferred to have time and room to explore each other, so that stayed a one time experience.   
She sucked in a sharp breath and pulled her hand away. With what felt like the whole mafia breathing down her neck she wasn’t comfortable anywhere outside of her apartment.   
“Then bring me home and show me what exactly you wanted to do with me,” she murmured and squealed when he floored it with a grin.   
“Oh, sweetheart, better not promise anythin’ ya can’t keep.”   
She held onto her seat; at least she wasn’t thinking about the party anymore.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this was fun. I'm kinda procrastinating because I know what's going to happen next and I'm not ready to write it...

He almost chased her up the stairs, taking two steps while Poppy struggled to be faster without tripping over her own feet. He didn’t touch her until the door fell shut behind them and locked the rest of the world out.   
“Are ya regrettin’ your cheeky offer yet?” he asked as soon as his hands rested on her hips, her back pressed against the door with him towering over her.   
“Never,” she whispered and leaned up. This was it, the safety she had craved ever since she had realized what he had stumbled into. Yes, she wanted to be a part of his life, she wanted to be with him no matter what, but the idea of a mafia debut was still scary.   
But not Tora. He could never be scary for her, she decided as he hoisted her up and held her against the door with one hand under her butt, her legs wrapped around his waist and both arms around his neck. Despite his passion bordering obsession, his need for control and the sheer physical power she felt safer with him than anywhere else.   
Poppy yelped when he nipped the soft skin of her neck, leaving a sting there while his lips traveled over every inch of exposed skin he could find before she buried her hands in his hair and pulled him into another deep kiss.   
“Ya said I should show ya what I had in mind in that store,” he rasped, panting against her lips.   
“And this is it?” she asked, out of breath and with her cheeks flushed.   
“Nah, not even close. But a good start.” He snaked his free arm around her back, holding her close as he made his way towards her bathroom.   
“What-?!” Poppy wondered when he set her down, but realisation hit her when he turned her around so she could see herself in the bathroom mirror.   
“Wanna watch ya and want ya to watch, too.” A clear statement, not an order, she noticed as he didn’t move until she nodded. He was at her before her head stopped moving, already tugging at her clothes, pulling the shirt off her before he opened the clasp of her bra to leave her naked from the waist upwards.   
Poppy braced herself, both hands on the sink as his fingertips trailed down her nacked back, hands smoothing over the fabric of her skirt only to bunch it up and push it up, over her hips to gather at the waist. Bending down slightly he ran his hands up her legs, from her knees to her thighs, the softness of her skin marred by goosebumps.   
“Would have fucked ya like this, against the mirror. Not even fully undressed. Fast and hard - would ya like that?”   
Poppy whined, eyes scrunched shut and fingers curling against the cool porcelain.   
“Keep watchin’,” he ordered and opened his belt and pants, shoving them down just enough to reveal his hard cock. He reached past Poppy, opened a drawer of the small vanity and grabbed a condom.   
“Wouldn’t have had that, of course. Would have fucked ya raw.”   
She shuddered and dropped her head, only for Tora to slide an arm around her, his hand skimming over her skin until he reached her neck and tipped her head back.   
“Told ya to watch, sweetheart.”   
Big brown eyes met his golden gaze in the mirror, the pupils blown. Arousal, excitement and trust - a cocktail that threatened to shatter his self-control. He pulled his hands back, ripped the condom wrapper open and rolled the condom over his cock before he grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him.   
“Ready?” He pulled her panties aside and waited for her shaky nod. He lined up and pushed into her, watched her eyes widen as the first inches of his cock stretched her.   
“Eyes up, sweetheart,” he reminded her as she dropped her head again. “Ya good?”   
“Y-yes… keep going.” Biting her bottom lip she met his gaze, smiled weakly when he grinned at her.   
“Good girl.” Slowly he pulled back and pushed in again, each thrust just a bit deeper until he was fully sheathed inside of her. It was a tight fit, as always, but he had promised her hard and fast and that was what she would get. His fingertips dug into her hips, the edge of her panties rubbing against his cock with each thrust.   
“I love seein’ ya tits sway like this. They are soft and heavy and perfect.”   
He slipped one hand under the front of her panties, drawing a moan from her as he found her clit while the other hand cupped her breast. Stretched up on her tiptoes Poppy panted and gasped at especially harsh thrusts, the additional stimulation of his fingertips circling her most sensitive spot driving her insane.   
“Harder… take me… harder…” As he had told her she kept looking at their reflection in the mirror, the way he had pressed his lips together tightly, how his eyes wandered to watch his cock dis- and reappear.   
“I like it when ya tell me what ya need,” he grunted and picked up the pace. His hips slapped against her ass, his fingers rubbed her furiously and his grip on her breast tightened. Poppy screamed, nails scratching over the smooth surface of her vanity, pushing back against him as her whole body erupted in pleasure and bliss, knees shaking and back arching.   
Tora buried his face in the crook of her neck, tasting the sweat glistening on her skin, giving her time to ride out her climax until she slumped against the vanity.   
“Ya good?” Pressing kisses against her neck, nipping at the damp skin he just held her.   
“Yeah, I’m - I feel amazing. What about you?” Her cheeks were flushed and her hair disheveled, but her smile was bright.   
Tora pulled out, tugged her panties down and turned her around. One hand under her ass he lifted her up on the sink, her legs wrapped around him, lips pressed together in a passionate kiss. He sank into her again, rocked against her, finally allowing himself to get lost in his pleasure, now that she had enjoyed hers. He came with her taste on his tongue and her scent in his nose, the sensation of her warm, soft skin against his. 

Poppy’s nerves flared back up in full force as she knocked on Quincey’s door. Tora had left early in the morning but had sent texts throughout the day when he would pick her up and what she had to bring.   
Now she stood with her outfit in a bag and her slim collection of makeup and jewelry in front of Quicney’s apartment while Tora had left to get a few things from a store.  
“Poppy-dear, there you are! You’re late for our spa day!”   
In a silk bathrobe and with a headband to keep his hair out of his face Quincey ushered Poppy inside, took her bag and led her towards the couch.   
“We make a face mask first, and later someone will come for a mani and pedicure. Let’s talk about how you should do your makeup - WHAT IS THAT?!”   
With Poppy’s jacket in his hand he stared at her, one trembling finger pointing at her neck.   
“I’m sorry, Quincey, I only noticed when it was too late. He said you have a whole arsenal of concealers and such and that you could help me cover it up.” She wrung her hands in her lap and kept her gaze down.   
“That beast! That Neanderthal! He did that on purpose! Oh, Poppy-dear, you poor thing! What did he do to you?”   
She had known the hickey on her neck would make Quincey angry, so she didn’t tell him about the fingertip-shaped bruises Tora had left on her breasts, in plain view as soon as she wore that dress. 

“You MONSTER!” Quincey still hadn’t calmed down when Tora came back. “No amount of concealer can hide those marks!”   
“Relax, Quinceton. Ya can’t blame me for havin’ fun with MY girl, can ya?” Tora smirked and winked at Poppy who blushed deeply.   
“I had a vision of her! The perfect dress, the perfect smile! And you RUINED it!” Slumping down on the couch Quincey wailed loudly while Poppy shrugged.   
“She’s still perfect,” Tora dryly pointed out. “And why are ya so mad? Anyone who’ll see the marks will think ya made them.”   
Quincey sat up again. “What?”   
“Ya gonna tell everyone she’s your girl anyway.” Every trace of humor had left Tora’s face and voice. “Let them think ya go at it like bunnies. Only helps your story.”   
“I-I would still want to try to cover them up,” Poppy timidly interrupted.   
“We will try,” Quincey announced and tugged her towards the bathroom. “But I can’t promise anything.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party time!

The car ride felt like an eternity. With Tora behind the wheel and Quincey on the passenger seat the only spot for Poppy was the backseat where she nervously picked at the dress and rearranged the cleavage a hundred times at least.   
“And don’t forget to tell no private details. If anyone asks, you just tell them you’re with me,” Quincey repeated for the umpteenth time.   
“And don’t eat or drink anything someone else hands you. Keep an eye on your drink at all times, too. Don’t go wandering around on your own, and don’t open any closed doors. You never know what you will find behind them.” The disgust in Quincey’s voice caught her attention.  
“Is there a story behind that warning?” She leaned forwards to hear him better but Quincey only scoffed while Tora snickered.   
“Poor Quince once stumbled into an orgy.”  
“It was traumatizing! On the pool table of all places!” The seat creaked as Quincey slumped into it.   
“He was 8 or so. We had to explain to him what the people were doing there the next day,” Tora remembered.   
“You told me the guy had peed into that woman!” Quincey cried out.  
“Hey, I was 10! I didn’t know much better than ya!” Tora barked back. “Besides, maybe he did. That was one pervy freak, old man Sukka.”   
Quincey hummed. “True. Anyway, darling, don’t leave our side, okay? If you need to go and powder your nose, tell me or Booboo and we will make sure you’re safe, okay?” He turned just enough to smile reassuringly at her, but Poppy noticed how his confident mask wavered.   
Anxiety had her stomach in knots, even knowing Tora would be there the whole time didn’t help.   
“Smile, but don’t hold eye contact to anyone for too long. Three seconds tops. And don’t talk about my books.” Quincey sighed, a drawn-out exhale that lasted long enough for Tora to turn into a driveway and slow down as they reached the end of a line of cars.   
“You don’t seem excited either.” Focusing on someone else’s anxiety helped Poppy pushing hers aside.  
“It’s just - me and my father have a rather strained relationship.”  
“Yeah, ‘cause he’s a bastard,” Tora growled and killed the engine. “Stay there, sweetheart, Quince is gonna open the door for ya.”   
“Am I?” Quincey asked but quickly nodded as he saw Tora’s deadpan expression. “Oh yes, of course. Just sit tight, Poppy-dear.” He got out of the car, greeted the valet and kept them from opening the door for Poppy. Instead he did and offered her his hand while Tora threw the key at the valet. Poppy noticed the same neck tattoo she knew well from Tora and Quincey at the valet, but didn’t point that out. Probably a low ranking organisation member working here, either to earn some browny points or because they have been told to do so. There would be more members of the organisation inside, no need to panic.   
Still, she almost jumped when Quincey placed her hand in the crook of his arm to lead her inside. Right, she was supposed to be his date. Or love or whatever, and with the amount of Balthuman thugs around she’d better not forget her role. Poppy put on a bright smile and followed Quincey inside, Tora on their heels.   
She stared in awe at the foyer, the huge staircase, mahagoni-covered walls and the sparkling chandelier hanging from the high ceiling.   
“What is this place?” she breathed, eyes wide as she looked around.   
“Hm? Oh, just our country home. Our town home is more modern, but for this one my father wanted a more classic design. I told him to get rid of the wall panelling, but he thinks it’s ‘sophisticated’.” Quincey scoffed, shaking his head while walking past people in staff uniforms who greeted him respectfully, often referring to him as ‘Young master’.   
“Let’s get rid of our jackets and then let’s find my father so we can get over with this,” he muttered, still smiling.   
Poppy stared after the young man who took her jacket and vanished with it in a separate room.   
“Even your coat room is bigger than my whole apartment,” she whispered, once again reminded how out of place she actually was.   
“And it probably got more action,” Quincey replied only to earn himself an exasperated glare from Poppy that Tora immediately recognized as her ‘don’t talk about sex stuff in public’ face. At least this added to their credibility.   
“Come, darling, let me show you around.” With her hand on his arm they wandered off, followed by Tora who nodded at some people he knew.   
Poppy was dizzy. She was sure she had recognized a few famous faces; well, not like Hollywood star famous, but popular citizens of Narin for sure. A news anchor, some society celebrities, some artists. She didn’t stare, though, Quincey’s instructions still running through her head.   
No long eye contact, only the minimum of talking, smiling and staying close to him. Tora’s presence behind her was reassuring as Quincey steered them towards a bar and ordered them each a glass of champagne. Resisting the urge to down the bubbly alcohol Poppy only nipped and held onto the glass as a prop. People stopped and greeted Quincey who chatted and introduced Poppy. She forgot all the names the moment the people walked on, eyes darting around to get accustomed to the lavish location and the fancy outfits. This was not her comfort zone.   
“If ya get any jumpier, ya gonna spill your drink,” Tora whispered and brushed past her to get a drink, too. Juice, of course.   
“Ah, young master. I’m so glad you could make it.”  
Poppy recognized the man heading directly towards them; he had been the cause of this dilemma. Martin.   
“And Tora, too. Of course.”   
Tora grunted in reply while Quincey smiled thinly. “Well, how could I refuse after that kind of invitation?”   
“And you brought your-?”  
“This young lady is Poppy. We are - close.” Quincey wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side.   
“Last time we didn’t get a proper introduction. My name is Martin, I’m pleased to meet you.” He bowed his head briefly and Poppy returned the gesture.   
“Young master, your father would like to see you. And your lovely friend, of course. Would you come with me?”   
There was no doubt that a ‘no’ wasn’t an option, so Poppy set her glass on the bar and straightened up. She could do this. With Quincey’s hand in the small of her back and Tora’s eyes burning into the same spot, they followed Martin to the other side of the huge hall. 

Vincent Balthuman was an impressive man. Tall, broad shoulders, good posture. He exuded power and confidence, and Poppy could see the similarities in Quincey. Only that Quincey smiled warmly and was a loveable, friendly person. And his father looked like a shark in a swarm of smaller fish, ready to simply open his mouth and devour them all. As soon as he saw Martin walking towards him, with Quincey, Poppy and Tora in tow, he smiled and raised his voice over the chatter.   
“There he is, my son and heir. Quincey, come and meet some business partners.”   
As they came closer Poppy spotted grey strands in Vincent’s brown hair, and wrinkles on his forehead. She wondered how old he was, it was hard to tell. Fifty, maybe? Fiftyfive? Even older?   
“Father, thank you for inviting me to this splendid party. Gentlemen,” Quincey greeted the people around Vincent, hiding Poppy halfway behind his back.   
“And this must be your special lady.” Vincent made an impatient gesture with his hand so Poppy stepped forwards.   
“Hello, sir, my name is Poppy. Nice to finally meet you.” Despite the churning of her stomach she managed a smile and didn’t even flinch when Vincent grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips.   
“The pleasure is all mine. Quincey, how did you manage to hide this lovely girl for so long?”   
Anger painted Poppy’s cheeks with a blush; she dropped her gaze, hoping it would pass as shyness and feeling flattered.   
“Well, father, we got a bit lost in our own world.” Quincey pulled Poppy nonchalantly closer again, his arm around her waist.   
Someone chuckled, someone cooed: ‘Aww, young love…’  
“Understandable. And Tora, good to see you came, too. Usually you try to worm your way out of events like this.” His smile didn’t waver, but even Poppy could hear the disapproval in Vincent’s voice.   
“Quince asked me to come. I’m his driver after all.”   
Poppy sneaked a glance at her actual boyfriend, his familiar emotionless mask in place.   
“And this way you can have a drink, Quincey. Clever boy, just like his old man.” Vincent patted Quincey’s shoulder; even Poppy could feel the impact. “Someone get my boy a drink! And his lovely girlfriend, too.”   
A server appeared next to them with a tray before Vincent’s voice had even faded.   
“Let’s have a toast,” the head of the Balthuman clan suggested.   
“To what?” someone asked.   
Vincent grinned. “To family, of course. The own and the extended.”   
He didn’t take his eyes off Poppy while everyone took a sip from their drinks.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no party like a Balthuman party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments crack me up 😂

Poppy gradually relaxed as they stood at the buffet, deciding what she wanted to eat. From hors d'oeuvre to elaborated miniature meals on a single spoon, tiny shot glasses filled with soup and mouth-watering desserts, everything looked appetizing and made Poppy’s stomach rumble. Skewers with chicken, prawns and stripes of steak caught Tora’s eyes; she smiled to herself as they stood side by side and piled food on their plates.   
“Darling, you have to try the scallops. They are divine,” Quincey interrupted the brief moment of peace.   
“Thank you, I will,” Poppy assured him and picked one.   
“How are you holding up?” The question, mumbled barely audible under Quincey’s breath, made Poppy smile.   
“Much better already. How long do we have to stay, though?”   
“A bit longer, I’m afraid. An hour altogether would be appropriate. Don’t worry, we’ll never leave your side.”   
On her other side Tora made an affirmative grunt.  
“There is a free table over there,” Quincey pointed out and walked over to it while Poppy grabbed another tiny cupcake before she followed him.   
All three of them crowded around the bar table, Poppy in the middle, all of them with their back towards the wall.  
Poppy waited for Tora to nod at her before she took her first bite. The food was delicious, but she couldn’t enjoy it. Chewing and swallowing on autopilot she kept glancing around the room, head dropped to not raise suspicion.   
“Doin’ great, sweet- Bobby,” Tora lowly said from her right.   
“At least my father seemed pleased,” Quincey agreed from her left side.   
“Does he?”   
Quincey nodded. “You would know if he didn’t like you. He’s rather - straightforward.”   
Tora scoffed, but kept eating.   
“He is impressive for sure.” Poppy chose her words carefully before all of them fell silent again, focussing on their food. A small island of calm while around them people chatted, laughed and argued. Every once in a while a server cleared some of their dirty dishes away or brought them a new drink.   
Poppy was surprised to see how many people threw Quincey glances but no one approached him until they had finished eating.   
She wasn’t surprised to see how many women checked Tora out, though. She should have left some marks on him, too. Right next to this awful neck tattoo, for example. He belonged to her more than to the Balthuman organisation after all, at least that was her conviction.   
Quincey just made some small talk with a mixed group, mostly older guests, when a young woman approached Tora. She smiled and set her glass of champagne down on the table, facing Tora directly. With Quincey’s hand in the small of her back Poppy was turned away from Tora a bit, grateful she didn’t have to witness her boyfriend getting hit on by a model in a very revealing dress - honestly, how could that even pass as clothing? All the see-through fabric and the cutouts? - but she had to bite her tongue to not laugh out loud when Tora told the woman to get lost before she could even open her perfectly painted lips.   
“What?” was the model’s incredulous answer, not overly creative but it got her point across.   
“Not interested, go and try someone else.” Tora turned away from her and from the corner of her eye Poppy saw that woman freeze before she grabbed her glass and rushed off. Sneaking a glance at Tora Poppy found him smirking at her. She smiled and blinked once before she focused on Quincey again. 

After another glass Poppy couldn’t deny it any longer: she needed to pee. Quincey was just talking to someone he called ‘uncle’ although Poppy doubted they were related at all.   
“Uhm, sorry to interrupt but I need to - to powder my nose,” she whispered.   
“I’ll show ya the way,” Tora offered and Quincey agreed with a nod.   
“Go, darling, but come back to me.”   
The young woman hanging from the ‘uncle’s arm cooed and Poppy blushed. She followed Tora through a hallway and up some stairs, quickly losing track of how to get back.   
“This isn’t the way to the restrooms for everyone, is it?”   
“Nah, gonna take ya to Quincey’s room, he’s got a private loo. Better than standing in line.”   
Lush carpet muffled their steps; this far away from the party she could almost forget who their host was and pretend she was in a fancy hotel.   
Quincey’s room lacked any signs of his personality. Probably just another perfectly designed room, not where he actually grew up. Or he had taken anything personal with him when he moved out. Either way, Poppy was glad the bathroom was free and she didn’t have to pretend for a few minutes.   
After washing her hands Poppy inspected her neck in the mirror. Only a faint shadow was still visible from the hickey, several layers of makeup hid it well.   
She found Tora leaning against the window board, arms crossed in front of him.   
“Ya okay?”   
“Yes, it’s just - exhausting. I can’t wait to get back home, but I can manage.” She stepped closer, having to keep her distance from him had made her jumpy and nervous. Knowing half of the women and a couple of men on this party would want to get closer to Tora only increased her insecurity.   
“Ya doin’ a great job, sweetheart. We can leave soon, don’t worry.” His touch was warm as his hand slid up her arm only for his fingers to curl around her upper arm and tug her closer. She stepped between his legs and rested her head against his chest.   
“It won’t be over after this, will it?” He wouldn’t lie to her and she needed to know.   
“Probably not. But we’ll find a way.” Tora pressed his lips on the top of her head and held her for a few minutes before Poppy pulled back and smoothed down her dress.   
“Thanks, I needed this.”   
“Yeah, me, too,” he admitted and slipped back into his bodyguard mode, back straight and shoulders squared as he walked to the door and opened it for her. 

“There are a lot of interesting portraits and paintings.” Poppy paused to inspect a landscape that was big enough to cover the whole wall of her living room.   
“Vince is a collector. Of lots of things.” Tora waited until Poppy continued to walk before he turned away from her again. Only to freeze on the spot when he noticed someone coming into their direction.  
“Ah, Miss Poppy, I was looking for you. Mr. Balthuman wishes to speak with you in a less public setting.” Martin nodded towards Tora, but focused on Poppy who glanced at Tora briefly before she nodded.   
“Of course. Will Quincey be there, too?”   
“Master Quincey will join you eventually. Right now he is still occupied talking to an important family friend.”   
Tora trailed after them, down the stairs but further away from the party.   
Heart thumping in her chest and her stomach churning Poppy stepped into what she supposed was a study, with a huge wooden desk in the back and high bookshelves on two walls. Vincent stood next to a window, drinking, and turned at the sound of Poppy entering.   
“Tora, you came, too? Good to see you keep an eye on Quincey’s lady, but for now you can leave. I’ll take good care of her.”   
For a second Poppy feared Tora might refuse, but after a last questioning glance he left and closed the door behind him.   
“You don’t have to stand there all dressed up and with nowhere to go. Come here, I want to show you something.” He looked out of the window again, one hand in his pocket, the other still holding his drink.   
She walked over to him, with as much confidence she could muster.   
“What is it, sir?”   
He barked a laughter, motioned with his glass out of the window. “You’re a polite one. No need to call me ‘sir’, though. Mr: Balthuman is fine for now. And relax, I just want to talk to you. Get to know the girl my son brought home better. Did you know you’re the first?”   
“No, I didn’t. Quincey and I - we don’t talk much about the past. The present is so much more important, don’t you think?”   
“Oh, the past is important. It shapes us into who we are, it’s the foundation we grow and build on.” He downed his drink. “See that out there? We own the land up to that small forest. Our family has other real estate, I run several businesses. One day, this will all go to Quincey. And here you are, this girl-” he said it like an insult, “- and I can’t help but wonder, what do you want from my son? My family?”   
His glass clanked as he set it on the wooden window board.   
“All I want is for Quincey to be happy. If I can I want to be part of it, but if it turns out I’m not making him happy, well -” She shrugged.   
“Do you know what he does for a living?” Vincent examined her, his eyes flitting over her face.   
“He is a writer. Yes, I know. And he is really good.”   
“Debatable.” With a scoff Vincent shook his head. “No, his scribblings can’t be called a job. He will take over the business of course, and once he does there are certain - duties. Actually I expected him to marry someone beneficial for our organisation, but that was when I thought he was - not interested in marrying.” The way he tilted his head, eyes narrowed at Poppy’s neck, made her shiver lightly.   
“But as I see, my worries were unfounded.”   
Her hand flew to the concealed bruise on her neck, cheeks aflame again. “Um, that - I mean…”  
“You are a nice girl. Not exactly what I would have picked for him, but as long as you understand his position in the family business and that your main purpose will be to support him, I won’t object against your relationship.”   
Poppy exhaled deeply. “I was afraid you wouldn’t approve,” she admitted, smiling brightly.   
Vincent reached out and cupped her face with one hand, the heat of her cheek against his cool palm.   
“On the contrary,” he purred. “I can see what Quincey likes about you. I only wonder if you have the most important quality a woman should have if she wants to be part of our family.”   
Both hands clenched into fists at her side Poppy forced herself to stay calm. “And which quality should that be?”   
“Secrecy,” Vincent replied, his thumb stroking over her cheek bone.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poppy finds out more about the dynamics in the Balthuman organisation and about Vincent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments for the last chapter made me so happy. I love reading your assumptions and sometimes wonder if you are disappointed with how it turns out. You have so wonderfully tragic and dramatic ideas...

Quincey rushed through the hall, almost running but not quite yet. He had to keep up appearances after all, the young master Balthuman didn’t just run. But dread had filled him since Tora had called him to his father’s office, telling him Vincent and Poppy were alone in there. Poor Poppy wasn’t prepared to be alone with Vincent, one of the biggest bastards Quincey knew. Yes, he was his father, but Quincey wasn’t stupid and despite the fear and respect that had been instilled to him ever since he was a kid, he could see past the front Vincent had put up for the world to admire. Quincey knew better. And right now he knew he had to get Poppy out of there before she said something wrong or - even worse - something too honest. She was just too sweet, Quincey didn’t trust her around a shark like his father.   
He could see Tora standing in front of the study door, scowling, disapproval rolling off him in waves strong enough to make Quincey falter in his steps.   
“How long are they in there?” Gasping for breath Quincey came closer, enough to see the tick in Tora’s jaw.   
“Called ya right after the door was closed. The bastard better not do anythin’ to her.”   
“Don’t worry, booboo, she’s a tough cookie, that’s what you say all the time. I’m going in there now and get her out.”   
Quincey ran his hands over his hair, took a deep breath and opened the door without knocking first.   
“Here you are, darling, I was looking for you. Oh, father. Did you show my cute little Poppy-dear around?” Nonchalantly Quincey walked up to Poppy who had taken a step back from Vincent.   
“I just wanted to have a private chat with her, son. After all, I have to make sure she’s a good choice for you. Can’t have some cunning little thing break your heart after all.” Vincent stared at Poppy who dropped her gaze.   
“Don’t worry, father, she’s not like that.” Quincey wrapped an arm around Poppy’s waist and pulled her against his side, further away from his father.  
“No, you are right. She’s a smart but hopefully trustworthy woman.” Vincent patted Quincey’s shoulder and turned to leave. “We better go back to the party now. We don’t want the people to wonder where we are.” 

On the way back Poppy stayed silent the whole time. They had agreed that Tora and her would stay the night in Quincey’s guest room, just in case someone would check on them on Vincent’s order.   
In the apartment Poppy marched directly into the bathroom and stripped out of the dress. She felt dirty. A shower helped to wash off the makeup and hair styling products, but not the conversation with Vincent.   
He knew where she worked and where her grandma lived. Who her friends were. She had listened to him list off facts and names about her life, info he had undoubtedly gathered as soon as Martin had told him her name.   
She had wanted to be part of Tora’s life, but not like this. Somehow she had assumed she could just be a guest in the organisation, not another recruit of people who were either backmailed by Vincent Balthuman, forced or simply paid to do whatever he wanted.   
Dressed in comfy pjs and warm socks Poppy padded out of the bathroom, her dress on a hanger and her hair still damp.   
“Feelin’ better?” Tora greeted her with a cup of tea, motioning for her to take a seat on the couch. On the coffee table a plate with cookies waited for her, the cute ones in flower shape and with colorful icing.   
“Much better,” she confirmed and took the cup. Warm, with a hint of spice and herbs. Poppy smiled; he was just so fudging thoughtful.   
“Wanna talk about it?” He plopped down next to her, a promise of safety and comfort.   
“There’s not much to talk about.” The tea left a taste of cinnamon and apples in her mouth.   
“Ya don’t have to talk if ya don’t feel like it, but Quincey went to bed already, so it’s just ya and me.”   
Wirth a cookie in her hand she leaned back into the cushions only for Tora to wrap an arm around her shoulder.   
“It’s just - I’m sorry. I know you tried to warn me, but I guess now I managed to step right into the spotlight.” She rested her head against his chest, careful not to get cookie crumbles on his clothes. He had taken off the jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, but still wore the dress pants.  
“Vincent’s got ya on his radar now, sweetheart. No doubt about that.” Tora flexed his fingers , opened and closed them a couple of times.   
“Do you want to smoke?” He had cut down on cigarettes lately, maybe for her sake, maybe for his.   
“Nah, ‘s fine. Just - I’m restless. Didn’t like him bein’ alone with ya.”   
Poppy nibbled at the cookie, wondering how much and what she could tell him. “He - he gave me a lecture on trust and loyalty.” That was one way to put it at least.   
“Loyalty to whom?” Tora tensed, the hand on her shoulder tightened its grip.   
“Not so sure, to be honest. I thought loyalty to Quincey and our ‘relationship’, but - I think he had something else in mind.” By now Poppy was chewing on her bottom lip more than on her cookie.   
“What, Poppylan? What did he say?” He shifted so he could look at her, fingers under her chin to tip her head back and towards him.   
“Um, he - he said if I wanted to be with Quincey I had to understand my duties towards the family organisation.” She dropped her gaze, omitting half of the whole statement.   
“So he’s seein’ ya as part of the fuckin’ mafia family.” Bitterness laced his words as he groaned. “That’s the fuckin’ worst.”   
“Well… eventually we’ll have to tell him that Quincey and I ‘broke up’, because I’m definitely not marrying Quincey just to - to keep up this ruse.” She blinked, wide brown eyes widening even further when Tora didn’t immediately agree. “You don’t think we have to keep pretending forever, do you?!”   
“‘m just sayin’ that Vince won’t let ya go until he thinks he hasn’t got any use for ya anymore. And maybe not even then.”   
“Oh.” Poppy slumped back against him, snuggling closer for comfort. “So… is that your perspective? I mean, for your own life? Being part of the mafia forever, Vincent dragging you around on a leash? Wow…”   
He scoffed. “Ya only now realize? Once a thug, always a thug. Tried to tell ya over and over, but ya didn’t listen, huh?”   
Poppy clutched his shirt, reality dragging her down. But she wouldn’t go down without fighting.   
“This - this is not how this will go,” she muttered. “I will find a way.”   
They stayed on the couch, huddled together, until Poppy fell asleep. 

“You must understand that father is quite traditional,” Quincey explained over breakfast. “Actually, I’d even call it old-fashioned.”   
Tora grunted but smiled when Poppy piled some more protein pancakes on his plate.   
“He doesn’t care if someone who’s merely working for him or paying off a debt leaves the organisation, but once he considers you part of the family…” Quincey sipped his green smoothie and hummed.   
“He-” Poppy cleared her throat and leveled her voice into something casual, not her usual chirping. “He said something about: ‘family is more than blood, but blood makes the best family.’”   
“That’s one of his favorite sayings. Basically he means that if you are bound by blood, you are part of the family forever, but you are also more trustworthy than others.”   
“Yeah,” Tora piped up. “But he’s got no problems with makin’ ya part of the family even if there’s no relation by blood. Still, he will forever remind ya you’re only second hand family.”   
“Bloodlines and succession are important for him, aren’t they?” Poppy poked at her porridge, not in the mood to actually eat it.   
“Yes, unfortunately. That’s why he insists I’ll take over eventually.” Quincey sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Enough of the depressing talk for now. I’ll take a shower, see you this afternoon, Poppy-dear. We still have to figure out how our hero will escape the clutches of the evil marquis.”   
“Yes, of course. And I have to leave for work soon. Thank you for last night.”  
“You’re welcome,” Quincey at Tora said in unison, staring at each other when their echoes faded away.   
“Yes… well, I’m off.” Poppy rushed off, cheeks aflame again as she grabbed her purse and left Quincey’s apartment. 

The day went by surprisingly uneventful. Poppy kept herself busy with menial tasks, filing away papers and organising shelves to keep her mind from reeling.   
“You are so diligent today, Pops. How about I treat you to something nice after work?” Erdene offered as Poppy cleared away old newspaper articles and flyers.   
“Sounds good, but I have to pay Noyouko another visit today.” Besides, maybe it was too risky to be seen with her friends. She didn’t want them to become targets after all. Vincent’s words still echoed in her mind, the way he had rattled off names of her friends and family.   
Instead she stayed in for lunch break and only slipped out at the last possible minute to catch her train.   
Only she never made it to the station. A black limousine was parked right in front of the office building; her steps faltered as she recognized Martin on the driver’s seat.   
“Ah, Miss Poppy.” He got out of the car and opened the door for her. “Mr. Balthuman would like to talk to you.”   
There was no other option, she realized, and nodded slowly.   
“Of course.” She slipped into the backseat and prayed Tora would never find out about this.


	18. 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poppy strikes a deal with the devil...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuuuuun!

“Well, Poppy, have you thought about my proposition?” Vincent sat in the backseat, a glass of an amber liquid on ice in his hand.   
She pressed her purse against her chest, sitting on the very edge of the backseat she kept as much distance to him as she could. Luckily it was a big car.   
“I have, sir. And I am flattered, but - I cannot do that to Quincey. He is - I could never hurt him.” Or Tora. Especially Tora.   
“You wouldn’t have to hurt him. That is the whole idea.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “The thing is, I cannot trust you unless I test you. Can you really keep a secret? And can you do what is necessary without caving in? You will have to be strong to stand next to my son.”   
Her hands gripped her purse tighter, her gaze was directed at her shoes.   
“If you never tell him, I won’t either,” he pointed out.   
“But we would have a secret and you could use it to blackmail me in the future.” Without accusation she stated a simple truth.   
“And here the trust comes into play. You will have to trust me, darling, so I will see I can also trust you.”   
No matter how she looked at it, there was no easy way out. Not if she wanted to turn this into a chance for herself and more even, a chance for Tora. For them.   
“I - I’m just on my way to see Quincey,” she stammered.   
“I can take you there,” Vincent suavely offered, inching closer to her.   
“That is very generous of you, but I’d rather not show up there in your car. Not if - if we really…”   
He chuckled, cool fingertips brushing over Poppy’s hand.   
“I see that you are thinking ahead. Actually I like that in a woman.”   
Like most other powerful men he probably liked women who put up an act of being unavailable only to jump into bed with them anyway. Poppy swallowed thickly.   
“I have conditions,” she said with all the courage she could muster.   
“Of course you have, darling. Tell me and we’ll see if I can meet them.”   
“No one can ever know,” she started. “Not Quincey, not anyone else. That also includes Martin. I will send you an address and we will meet there. Feel free to check the place first, but on the day I will pick for our - our meeting, you will come there without telling anyone.“ Words rushed from her mouth, as if saying them faster would make them less disgusting for her.   
“You’re not taking any risks, are you?” An amused smile played around his lips, tugged their corners up more and more.   
“I’m certain Quincey would forgive you if he found out; you are his father and he admires you. But he wouldn’t forgive me and I can’t-” Poppy pressed her lips tightly together. It wasn’t Quincey in her mind but Tora, the idea of betraying him like this made her sick.   
“You are really smart. And probably right. Fine, let us play it your way. But I will pick the place and send you a note. You can pick the day, though.”   
She nodded slowly. Of course he wouldn’t accept all of her conditions; he was used to being in control and was only humoring her.   
“Okay.” She nodded slowly, knowing she couldn’t push Vincent too far. “Just one more thing… Quincey’s bodyguard-”  
“Tora?”   
With a quick nod she continued. “He’s keeping an eye on me most of the time, drives me to work and to Quincey’s place. They are both really intent on keeping me safe.” And both weren’t fond of seeing her with Vincent; that short conversation at the party had been enough to spoil every last bit of good mood.   
“So, you want me to find another bodyguard for my boy?” Immediately Vincent whipped out his phone. Only Poppy’s hand on top of his stopped him from making a call right away.   
“No, nothing that drastic. It’s just - I know sometimes Tora is called to other-” she searched for the right word, “-duties, and in that case he’s gone for a day or two. I just - I want him far away so he won’t follow me. I know they only have my safety in mind, but I wouldn’t be able to - to relax if I had to wonder whether he followed me or not.” Wide brown eyes, slightly wavering as her bravado left her, sold her concern perfectly with a side of guilty consciousness.   
“Ah, I see. You are really clever, I can see why Quincey is so smitten with you.” He covered her hand with his and gave it a light squeeze. “Fine, let that be my concern. Just tell me when you want Tora gone and I will send him on a job. Boy listens to every word I say. Trained him well.” With a smug grin Vincent put his phone away again. “But you better don’t keep me waiting for too long. You never know what might happen in the meantime.”   
Vincent grabbed her hand, pressed the back of it against his lips and grinned at Poppy’s blush.   
“I - I have to go now. Quincey is waiting,” she stammered and scooted aside, to the door and away from him.   
With a racing heart and sweaty palms she made her way to the station, constantly checking if Vincent’s car was following her.   
Back in her own apartment after a long, stressful day Poppy showered before she checked on her plants.   
“Hey, my lovelies, it’s time for some water.” Every plant got a few minutes of poppy’s time; she watered and wiped dust off their leaves, broke off brown and dry twigs. Carefully she loosened up the ground in one of the plant tubs on her balcony, the bulbs in there just about to sprout.   
“One more week,” she muttered at the light green bud. Her phone buzzed. Poppy wiped off her hands on her shorts and unlocked the phone to find a text from Tora.  
“Hey Bobby, up for some company? I’ll bring dinner.”   
Her heart clenched. Vincent insisted to test her discretion, and it actually played into her hands. But she didn’t like it.   
“Sure :) I still have some ice cream for dessert.”   
She watched the small dots telling her he was replying until his text popped up.   
“Was thinkin’ about something else for dessert, but I guess that can wait until ya had your ice cream. And then I’ll make ya scream.”   
She sent him a blushy emoji and chuckled at the laughing one he sent back.   
He was worth fighting for, a sweet and caring man in the body of a greek god. And their love was worth fighting for, even if that meant she had to do things she really didn’t want to do. She wouldn’t allow Vincent to ruin what they had or to spoil the time they spent together. The looming presence, the constant threat Vincent posed was one thing, she had gotten used to Tora falling silent as soon as Vincent called or his name was brought up. But if she could get Vincent off their backs, she would resort to any means necessary. 

A few days later she found a leaflet for some small but fancy hotel in her mailbox, with a room number and a key card.   
In her planter the first green leaves greeted the sun.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poppy, Tora and Quincey have an open talk and a quiet night in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all deserve some smut after what I put you through. Your comments give me life, but I needed to slow down the plot a bit; I caught myself skipping important information and scenes I had planned and had to rewrite this chapter TWICE. So here we are... enjoy!

Determining the right day wasn’t easy, Poppy wanted to get over with it but also dreaded her rendezvous with Vincent. In the last few days she had talked a lot with Quincey and Tora and felt confirmed in her conviction that Vincent was dangerous, despite the air of manners and sophistication he put on.   
“He always gets what he wants, no matter what it takes,” Quincey told her while lying on his couch with a facemask on. “As a child I always thought he was the strongest, most powerful and convincing person. Now I know he just threatens, lies and kills to get to his goal.”   
“He’s a bastard,” Tora summed it up. “Will sacrifice every single one of his ‘boys’ if he has to.” He was playing a video game without the sound so Poppy could focus on editing the draft she and Quincey had discussed earlier.   
“I get the impression no one likes Vincent.” Poppy looked around carefully when no one objected.   
“No one has to like him.” Quincey sat up and took the cucumber slices off his eyes. “People fear him and he simply buys the rest.”  
“Then why - why is he still…?”   
“Alive?” Tora asked.   
“Head of the family?” Quincey said at the same time.   
“Yeah… I mean, no offense, but he’s a horrible person.” She chewed on her bottom lip, some of the things she had read online and the few things Quincey and Tora had openly told her swirled together with her own short but unpleasant encounters with Vincent.   
“True, but he’s also keeping the clan together and the streets safe.”   
Poppy furrowed her brow and stared at Quincey quizzically.   
“He’s the leader of a criminal syndicate, how is that ‘keeping the streets safe’?”   
“Ever heard of clan wars?” Tora paused his game and dropped the controller on the couch.   
“I don’t think I have.” Having his attention now Poppy also set down her notes.   
“‘s bloody, and cruel, and often affects civilians.”   
“Organized crime means that someone actually keeps an eye on the small fries,” Quincey explained whe Poppy still didn’t seem convinced. “It takes the randomness out of the crime in an area.”   
“Yeah, ‘cause if someone messes with ya, ya just snuff ‘em.”   
Poppy’s eyes flitted towards the TV screen where the ego shooter game was just paused, puddles of blood on the ground where Tora’s enemies had dropped dead after a round of bullets had perforated them.   
“Okay, I think I get it. You mean by being this horrible person, Vincent somehow holds all the criminals together and keeps them from going on a rampage.”   
“Exactly!” Quincey beamed at her, the mask cracking and crumbling as he moved the muscles of his face.   
“But - he’s so cruel!” Remembering the few things Tora had told her about his childhood, about some of the jobs Tora had done for Vincent Poppy trembled in frustration and anger.   
“That he is, sweetheart. A heartless bastard. But someone has to do the job.”   
“God knows I wouldn’t want to do it,” Quincey sighed and plopped down again.   
“But - what would happen if Vincent… I mean, if you don’t want that job, who will-?” She shrugged, unsure how to word her thoughts.   
“That’s the problem. Father wants me to take over a part of the responsibility once I turn 25.” Quincey cracked one eye open again, his gaze rested on Poppy who bit her lip bloody. “It’s not like some job offer I can decline. Even if I could, I can’t imagine Martin to take over. Or a psycho like Scharch.”   
Tora grunted, he had just won another level in his game. “Shing Ma?”   
“Hmmm… he would be interested, I’m sure. And he’s not a sicko like most others.” Getting up from the couch Quincey sighed again. “I’m taking a bath now. Don’t stay up, waiting for me, darlings. But - keep it down, will you?” He waved lazily and swaned off, towards his bathroom.   
Poppy blushed. “Were - were we too loud last time?” Horrified by the thought of Quincey overhearing them in bed she hung her head.   
“Nah, he’s just pissed because he doesn’t get any.” Tora saved his game and turned off the TV.   
“How long do you think we’ll have to keep up this act? I mean, don’t you think Vincent will get suspicious eventually?” She cleared her tea cup and plate with cookie crumbs away, unable to sit still.   
“Only if ya pop out a kid with dark hair and golden eyes instead of blond with blue eyes.” His smirk faded quickly at Poppy’s shocked face.   
“Not a fan of kids?”   
“No, that’s not - I want a family. Now right now, but in the future.” Her eyes shimmered but she smiled again. “It’s just, you never really talk about a future. Not only one for the both of us, but in general.”  
Tora scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. “Figured there’s no use in talkin’ about somethin’ I might not even have.”   
A future… It was so normal for her to make plans, to dream of what could be and what she wanted to have. For him, it wasn’t normal at all. His life wasn’t normal. Anger welled up in her, made her tear up.   
“I love you,” she burst out, throat tightening as tears spilled from her eyes.   
“Same, sweetheart.” With his arms wrapped around her he held her while she sobbed against his chest. “Ya know that, right?”  
“Yes,” she sniffled. He didn’t say it much, but she had no doubt about it. On the other hand, she had never felt like this for someone before, the force of her own emotions caught her off guard from time to time.   
“I just - don’t wanna promise ya anything I might not be able to give ya in the end.” Like a future together, marriage and kids, a while picket fence.   
“I know.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and inhaled deeply. “That doesn’t mean I will try anything to get that after all.”   
He wiped her tears away and pressed his lips lightly against hers.   
“This shit is messed up, I know. But I’m gonna keep ya safe, Bobby. Promise.”   
She nodded and kissed him back.   
“Ya know I’d die for ya, don’t ya?”   
Poppy froze. She cupped his face with both hands and held him so he had to look at her. “No. I don’t want that. I want you to live for me. And share this life with me.”  
Only when he nodded she let go of him, satisfied to have gotten her point across. 

Although he barely ever slept at night, or at least that was her impression, he woke her up sometimes, chest heaving with frantic breaths while his skin was clammy with cold sweat. It had become less, but with the whole fake dating situation Poppy wasn’t surprised to get startled awake in Quincey’s guest bed from Tora basically jumping up, still half asleep and disoriented.  
“It was just a dream, Tora. Deep breaths, I’m here.” She rubbed his back and waited for his breathing to slow down again.   
“Fuck, Bobby… this was… are ya oka?”   
“Of course I am. We are at Quincey’s, we are safe, all is fine.”   
She found herself wrapped into a tight embrace before she had finished the sentence.   
“Do you want to tell me about it?” she whispered against his neck only to feel him shake his head.   
“‘twas too real… thought I’d lost ya…”   
Poppy shifted and straddled him, arms wrapped around his neck as he slowly relaxed under her caress. She pressed kisses on his skin, from his neck to his face, cheeks, eyes, along his jawline until he angled his head to kiss her lips. Determined to take his mind off his nightmare Poppy ran her hands over his back, his shoulders and down his arms. Even in the darkness she could feel the scars from his injuries, healed by now but not without leaving a trace.   
Another reminder of what Vincent had done to him.   
Pushing those thoughts back Poppy kissed Tora again, harder this time, her tongue teasing his as his hands gripped her hips tightly.   
“I’m here,” she whispered against his lips. “I’m fine.”   
He growled when Poppy pressed a hand against his chest, pushing him back down on the mattress.   
“I’ll prove it to you.” With that promise she tugged at his shirt before she pulled off her own, let both drop to the floor before she scrambled off his lap just to push down her shorts and panties and grab a condom from their secret stash. Tora had slipped out of his boxers when she joined him again on the bed, fumbling with the condom wrapper in the dark. She managed to get it open and roll it down his cock with his assistance, but shooed his hands away once she was done. It was a shame she couldn’t see his face but a small comfort that he couldn’t see her body as she straddled him again, this time sinking down on his cock. She braced herself with her hands on his chest as she rode him, slowly rocking in his lap until he sat up again and wrapped his arms around her, but giving her enough room to stay in control.   
More kisses as the tension and pressure built inside of her, the need to move and speed up grew with every roll of her hips.   
Tora leaned back, propped up on one hand behind him while the other snaked between their bodies to give her the additional friction she needed. Clinging to him with both hands on his shoulders Poppy allowed herself to fall over the edge, shivering, fingers curling against his skin, eyes screwed shut tightly.   
She gasped for air, the pleasure leaving her exhausted and tired. But she kept moving, only stopped after Tora shuddered beneath her, hands gripping the sheets tightly.   
They slept soundly through the rest of the night.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuuuuuun...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, life is hectic and chaotic and I barely find time to write but I'm sooooo close to finishing this story so please, stick with me.

“You haven’t answered my question the other day.” Poppy just zipped up her skirt while Tora slipped into some casual pants.  
“Which one?”   
She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail before she handed another hairtie to Tora.  
“What would you do if you weren’t working for Vincent?”   
Wordlessly he took the hairtie and reached up, scrunched up the top half of his hair at the back and wrapped the hairtie around it.   
“There ain’t an answer to that, sweetheart. ‘s not as if I could do anythin’ else.”   
Silently Poppy stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.  
“That’s not true,” she softly objected. “You are so much more than just Vincent’s dog. He just made you believe there’s nothing more to you.”  
He grunted, hands covering hers in front of his stomach.   
“You could be a gym instructor,” she started listing off things. “Maybe not a professional driver or chauffeur, but definitely an actual bodyguard. Maybe a security advisor for companies.” She nuzzled his back, right between his shoulder blades. “And of course a model.”   
“All ya care ‘bout is my body,” he grumbled, a grin tugging at his lips.   
“Tch. You could also go back to school and learn something new. Study, maybe.”   
“Nah.” He unwrapped her arms from him and spun her around so he could hug her now. “I ain’t that smart. Not like ya, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I know I’m not completely brainless either.”   
A few kisses later Poppy pulled away from him, before he could tempt her back into bed.   
“I need to go back to my apartment today. I need some clothes and have to water my plants. Could you drop me off at home?”   
Tora watched her rush around and gather her belongings, arms crossed in front of him.  
“Sure, Bobby. Should I take ya to work afterwards?”   
She paused.   
“No, it’s fine. I’m working from home most of the time today before I have an appointment later. Don’t worry, the moment I feel unsafe I will call you immediately, okay?”   
Tora grunted, not convinced but after having watched over Poppy for the last few days he knew he couldn’t lock her up.   
“Fine. But ya keep your taser at hand.”   
She nodded obediently. “Nothing has happened since that party. I guess people aren’t interested in me or they are scared off by Quincey’s mafia lineage.”   
“Not so sure ‘bout that,” Tora mused. “But none of my contacts has found anythin’ suspicious goin’ on so far.”   
And if even Gyu hadn’t heard anything, Tora was reassured. Or at least as much as he could when Poppy and her safety were involved.

It had taken a couple of days for her plants to sprout and Poppy observed them with grim satisfaction. Hopefully Vincent was eager enough to make their meeting a last-minute one, because she had no idea how long her courage would last.   
After a few last preparations she changed into a light-blue sundress, re-did her ponytail and snuck out of her own apartment building. 

Vincent was bad news; that much she had verified.   
And now Poppy was about to waltz right into the lion’s den, with tea and cupcakes. Like Little Red Riding Hood.   
It hadn’t been easy to send him the message with the date and time of their tete-a-tete since she didn’t want to leave any evidence of it. Text or email didn’t seem safe at all and a letter was out of question. She opted for calling him, from an old-fashioned phone booth. He had laughed, probably thought she was quirky and paranoid. Well, she was, but she was also determined to get this over with without anything coming back later to bite her in the butt. So serious planning was in order, and covering all her tracks.   
Maybe she was mistaken; maybe Vincent only wanted to get to know the woman he thought was dating his son.   
Poppy remembered the way he talked about secrets and duties, about lineage and blood, about Poppy’s friends and family. She prayed she was mistaken.   
The hotel was small but clean. Poppy scurried through the lobby, head bowed and sunglasses hiding her eyes. With the keycard she opened the door, glad she had arrived well before the time she had told Vincent. She searched the room for microphones and cameras with the help of some nice little gadget that showed her every electronic device but found nothing. One of these days she would have to thank Jacob, although he had no clue what exactly she needed this gadget for.   
Next she prepared some tea and set down the cupcakes she had baked earlier. And afterwards she sat on the couch, hands in her lap, reminding herself to breathe evenly and deeply.   
When she heard the door being unlocked her stomach plummeted. She slapped a smile on her face, hoping it was convincing enough as she jumped up to greet him.   
“Ah, someone is eager.” Vincent closed the door behind him, trapping Poppy, or at least that’s what it felt like for her.   
“H-hello… I didn’t know how this should go, so I got us a snack…” She smoothed her dress down after having wrinkled it by worrying it with her hands earlier.   
“A snack?” With a barked out laughter Vincent stepped closer, taking off his jacket and throwing it over some armchair. “Now, aren’t you a doll? But I don’t eat just anything. I have to be careful, there are a lot of dangerous people out there.” He snickered; it reminded Poppy of a predator.   
She swallowed nervously. That much for trust and his big talk of making a connection. Would have been too easy.   
“Do you mind if I-?” She motioned towards a plate with cupcakes, biting her bottom lip. It would give her something to do at least.  
“Feel free. I’d like to chat with you for a bit anyway.”  
That sounded safe enough, so Poppy poured herself and him a cup of tea, fully expecting him to refuse it. After she had taken a sip he did so, too, and her nerves settled for just a bit.   
Sitting across from each other they silently drank their tea and Poppy ate half of a cupcake.  
“Say, Poppy, how did you meet Quincey?”   
She almost choked on a crumb but managed not to spit out the bite in her mouth. She could lie. Tell him they met through work. But after everything she had heard about him she figured he had probably someone check out the last few weeks, maybe months of her life.  
“I was out one night and came across a teenager who had been beaten up. I wanted to call an ambulance but he asked me to take him to his teacher and I did. When we arrived there this tall blonde man opened the door. He took care of the boy and was kind enough to make sure I was okay, too. Called someone to take me home and even kept me up to date on the boy’s condition. It was - impressive.” That was a truth, only not THE truth.   
“Impressive, huh? Well, that runs in the family.” His eyes trailed up and down her body and Poppy lowered her gaze.   
“Sir, I - I’m not sure why I’m here. I understand that you want to make sure I’m a good fit for your son, but I don’t like going behind Quincey’s back and this feels like a huge betrayal.” Still looking down Poppy counted the seconds. She could hear him shift in his seat, could feel his gaze on her until she finally raised her head again.   
Brown eyes, slightly narrowed at her, so different from Quincey’s blue ones or the warmth in Tora’s golden gaze.   
“You seem to misunderstand,” he began and sat up straighter. “You are here because I told you so. That is how it is in this family. I am the head of it, I call the shots. Quite frankly, I don’t care if Quincey finds out or not, I’m just saving you and him the embarrassment of openly bending to my will.” He beckoned her over with a motion of his index finger. “I get what I want, no matter what it is. I know that, Quincey knows that and you better learn that quickly.”   
Poppy’s eyes widened but she obediently got up and stepped closer.   
“You are the first girl my boy has ever brought back home, and I assume that means he’s serious about you. The problem is, I doubt he knows how to pick a good girl and how to train her to become a worthy wife.”  
Her knees shook as she stalked even closer, enough so he could reach out and ran his fingertips along her bare arm.   
“You know, when the time comes he will take over as head of the family, but he is weak. He will need guidance. I can offer that, at least as long as I’m around. After that… I’d rather make sure that Quincey’s heir is cast in the same mold as me, if you catch my drift.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her even closer, until she stumbled and landed directly in his lap.   
“I see you get what I mean.” Vincent wrapped an arm around her waist, his triumphant grin unwavering right in front of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger... -hangs head in shame-


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poppy does what she has to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long, my life is incredibly busy rn but in a good way.  
> Your comments made me cackle like a madwoman and I'm going to miss that, but - THIS IS THE END! (Of the story of course, nothing else.)  
> Enjoy!

Poppy panicked. Of course she did, despite her suspicion she couldn’t have been entirely sure what he was planning. Or rather, she refused to accept it. She was supposed to be Quincey’s girlfriend after all! So before his hands could wander any further she wiggled from his grasp and took a step back.  
“I-I… need a drink.”  
His laughter followed her to the small bar where she poured a glass of bourbon, looked back at him and downed it. It burned down her throat and made her scrunch up her face as she shook her head.  
“Do you want a drink, too?” she asked, voice hoarse and hand shaking slightly as she poured another glass and added a few ice cubes. Without waiting for his answer she handed him the bourbon, warmth spreading in her chest.  
He sipped, eyes following her every move. “You seem uncomfortable.”  
An understatement, but Poppy shrugged it off with a shaky smile. “I just - I don’t know what to do now. I’m not - this isn’t exactly a common situation.”  
“You never seduced someone?” Vincent raised an eyebrow at her.  
With her arms wrapped around herself she shook her head. “It’s - it’s different. When love is involved, it’s easier.” No need to pretend she’d like him after all; Poppy wasn’t afraid to hurt his feelings. So far  
“Love.” Vincent scoffed. “You and Quincey - all you care about are feelings. Let me tell you one thing, feelings make you weak. And the weak will be eaten.” He swirled the bourbon in the glass and took another swig.  
This man had no heart, Poppy realized. This was the same man who had shoved a kid into the sewers and left him there without food or water while he and his family went on a trip to the beach. This man ended the lives of his enemies, his henchmen and even innocent bystanders if he felt like it. Maybe he was necessary to keep the balance in the criminal underworld of Narin City, but he wouldn’t be missed if he vanished.  
“Stop standing around gawking, take off that dress already. Slowly.” He downed the rest of the chilled bourbon, the ice had melted ever so slightly and Poppy rushed to refill his glass. Anything to buy some time.  
Once the glass was back in his hand he motioned for her to start stripping. Poppy stepped back, just out of his reach, and took a deep breath. Her trembling fingers found the tie around her waist; she tugged it open and let the loose ends fall to dangle from the belt loops. The zipper was in the back, she reached behind herself and slid it down.  
“Take your time,” Vincent spat, sarcasm lacing his words as his face reddened.  
“Would you prefer if we played some music?” she asked back, hoping it would cover up the beating of her heart.  
“No. Just hurry up a bit.” He reached up to loosen his collar, sweat beading on his forehead.  
Nodding slowly Poppy pushed the straps of her dress down, allowing it to pool around her waist before she hooked both thumbs into the fabric to push it down her hips.  
“Much better already,” Vincent murmured, panting, his eyes glassy. He downed his drink, the ice had vanished completely and offered him no refreshment.  
“Are you feeling alright?”  
“I’ll feel much better once you lose that underwear,” he grumbled, one hand gripping at his shirt, kneading the skin underneath it, just above his heart.  
“I need – some water.” His face contorted in what Poppy guessed was discomfort, he kept rubbing his chest while Poppy fetched him a glass of water with ice. He downed it, hand trembling hard enough to make the ice cubes clink against each other.  
“Don’t worry, sweetcheeks, it’s just – heartburn. Must be the Viagra I took earlier. That and seeing you all shy, playing hard to get – it’s just too exciting.” He barked a short laughter and swallowed an ice cube, sucking on it before he crushed it between his teeth.  
“I told you to get naked, didn’t I?”  
Eyes trained on a spot just above him Poppy opened the clasp of her bra, still held it in place with her arms crossed in front of her as soon as it gave way. It was a nice bra, black lace, part of the only pretty matching set she owned. She had bought it as a special surprise for Tora a few weeks ago. He had told her it looked great on her, but even better on the bedroom floor.  
And now someone else saw her in it, and soon out of it. She pressed her lips together to keep her bottom lip from trembling.  
“Don’t test my patience, girl,” Vincent reminded her and Poppy lowered her arms, allowing her bra to slip down until she let it drop to the floor.  
She was shaking, not from the light chill that sent goosebumps over her skin and made her nipples hard. There was nothing for her to do but close her eyes and think of something else, anything to make it through this nightmare.  
Like a mantra Tora’s name ran through her mind, she summoned an image of his smile, the soft look he sometimes gave her.  
“Get rid of the panties next,” Vincent croaked. Poppy furrowed her brows as she looked at him. His face was shining and flushed, he had opened his collar and was slumped in his seat, but his eyes were still focused on her.  
“Sir, you really don’t look too well.”  
“Don’t worry about that. Go on, this won’t be over too soon.”  
He cleared his throat a couple of times and Poppy slid her hands under the waistband of her lacy black panties, took a deep breath and pushed the fabric down.  
“Good. I prefer my women obedient but I have to admit, watching you struggle with your own convictions makes this so much sweeter for me.” His chuckle ended in a coughing fit, he wheezed as he pushed himself up again.  
“Come here.” Patting his thigh he leaned back, his breathing heavy and eyelids half closed.  
Poppy took a step closer, still out of reach.  
“Closer.” His outstretched hand almost touched her. Poppy shuddered.  
“I don’t mind if you want to cry,” Vincent graciously stated. “As long as you will do as I say.”  
Again he coughed, his body shaking under the strain. Poppy stepped back.  
“Actually,” she slowly said and swooped down to grab her underwear, “I think I’m leaving now. You look like you’re about to keel over and honestly, that’s not what I want to see.”  
She slipped into her panties and out the bra back on, purposefully ignoring Vincent who tried to get up but couldn’t. His legs were shaking, his arms limbly hanging by his side.  
“What the-?” Another coughing fit; Poppy used it to put her dress back on.  
“Your hunger for power, for bending others and me to your will, your belief to be invincible - I would love to think that karma is punishing you for it now.” She quickly grabbed her belongings and shoved them into her bag.  
Vincent lay motionlessly on the couch, only the soft heaving of his chest and the way his eyes followed her around the room while she cleared away any evidence of her presence were proof he was still alive.  
Poppy washed the glasses and dishes, dried them and put them away. She cleaned the carpet and where she had sat with a lint roller, wiped every surface she had touched with a cloth and avoided looking at him.  
Once she was certain she had erased all traces she tiptoed closer to him. “The viagra - I guess that was just too much. Honestly, it probably sped up everything. So I guess I should thank you for it. The rest, though… you brought that on yourself.”  
With her sunglasses hiding half of her face and a wide-brimmed hat Poppy left the hotel. She only stopped at a small alley to burn the keycard before she headed back home.  
Tora was probably still on that job Vincent had given him and Quincey was away on a short spa trip so she spent half an hour in the shower, scrubbing away the lingering memory of Vincent’s gaze and touch. If she could she would also wash away his words, his whole existence, but this had to suffice for now.  
Tomorrow word of his death would probably get around, but nothing would link that to her. The planter on her balcony was empty, the lily-of-the-valley didn’t grow there anymore. With the ice cubes melted and washed down the drain, Vincent’s death would look like a heart attack.  
Whatever happened afterwards, clan wars or Quincey as mob boss, at least Tora would never have to be afraid of Vincent anymore. And for that Poppy was willing to live with the guilt of having killed someone.  
Tora would die for her, but Poppy had killed for him. Nothing could ever tear them apart anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got dark very fast in the end, but actually this was the initial scene that sparked the whole story. I like to leave endings a bit vague and open, so don't ask how Tora will react or what will happen with Quincey. I just don't know either... 😅  
> For those who wonder wtf happened, Poppy used lily-of-the-valley to make ice cubes. That plant is highly poisonous and especially in combination with alcohol and/or viagra deadly. She had grown them on her balcony and had prepared everything so she could poison Vincent during their 'date'. Yes, fully intentional. But hey, he wanted to test her secrecy 😈


End file.
